SACHCHIDANANDA


O I would find the truth way

That leads to Thee

From the outward shores of silver

To the Ultimate Sea.


O I would hear the fire-speech"

That echoes Thee

And pens in flaming ramparts

Each galaxy.


O I would rock the infant

Born with each world—

Feel the fingers of Beauty

On my finger curled.


July 2,1934.


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