In this Playground of the Lord

On the mountain of my failures now I stand

And look across the ridgeline of my life,

The valleys deep, the summits yet to climb

Yet know my days reverent and true,

Fear not the precipice; the outstretched hand

Upholds and leads, banishes all strife,

I move through many births, aware that time

Is meaningless and death no meaning too.

Escaping from the cell of our despair

In the prison of our separateness

Unchained and free to soar above the walls

That hold our ignorance and seal our fate

While the guards of our inconscience lie asleep.

No earthly force or otherworldly stress

Can stay our journey to the golden halls

Where all the tides of violence and hate

Are swept away, no longer ours to keep.

There is a peace containing every sound

And a sound that holds all music in its peace.

I worship Auroville, the sacred ground,

In this playground of the Lord is our release.