Golconde Portrait

The street dogs bark, the moon is full

And lorries belch their poisoned fumes,

The world is now a crucible

In which an unseen flower blooms.

Mystic, rising on its stem,

A lotus of divine surprise,

The supramental diadem

Of children born with sun-gaze eyes.

I live in Golconde near the sea

And walk its glowing black-stone floors,

An oasis of tranquillity

That leads to occult corridors

And trance-like caves of harmony.

The outside world intrudes not here

Though a vain and rude cacophony

Impinges on the outer ear.

In an unstained radiance of peace

With gratitude I come and go,

The soul content, the heart at ease,

While deep within the sacred rivers flow.