Let.......

Let me not forget Thee, Mother!

Even for a moment's time,

I will cast away all other

Thoughts that with Thee do not rhyme.

 

Let my heart be one large hive

Where Thy million memories

Fraught with all Thy nectars five

Throng like sweet celestial bees.

 

Let my peak-borne Manas lake

Dreaming on a moon-white bed

Of eternal peace awake,

Thrilling greet Thy nearing tread.

 

Let my life flow in a flood

Of rare rhythms that are Thy own,

Caught in a high-pitched God ward mood

That should fill my very bone.

 

Let my ardent service day

Bear the glory of Thy light;

And on Thy strange starry way,

Pass benign my prayerful night.

 

Let my being be a shrine

Perfect, pure and beautiful,

Dedicated to Thee, divine

Mother! Enter in and rule.

 

28-1-1943

Thou art Before Me

How sweet and beautiful it is to find,

Mother! that ere my cry remembers Thee

Thou art before me with Thy smiles that bind

My being to Thy feet increasingly.

And how can then remain even a trace

Of sorrow that would otherwise have drowned

Me deep in gloom? As turns to Thee my face

My heart with high ecstatic moods gets crowned;

And it becomes a fount of love that flows

To Thee in an ever-widening speeding stream,

Bearing on its rippling bosom glows

Of stars with which is celled Thy beauty supreme.

And all's transformed into a heaven bright,

And I — the offspring of Thy love divine

Move in it midst Thy radiance infinite..

Spreading with song Thy sweetness growing mine.

Oh! let my self be Thine remembrance-wrought,

A happy home of Thy increasing joy;

And then with Time and Space reduced to nought

Let me live here Thy life Death can't destroy.

31-1-1943

Now

Now that I have embraced Thy feet of light,

The refuge of all earth whose mounting cry

Has brought the succour of Thy victor might

To our Darkness-ridden deathful misery,

My drooping bower of life revives again,

My desert-dearth is crowned with hope in spring

And all my being bathes in a rich rain

Of blooms divine that thrill and make me sing.

The sadness that had seized my heart of joy

And buried all its brightness with deep gloom,

Is there no more to sicken and annoy

My spirit which now towers above that tomb.

My sight was sealed by mists of gathered murk,

But then Thy golden glory dawned on me;

And now Thy quenchless suns are all at work;

Dissolved are the blind nights revealingly.

Now one by one, my lotus-soul awake

Unfolds its petals pure, O Grace divine!

That the beauty of Thy feet may wholly take

Possession of my self and make it Thine.

I have embraced Thy feet and will not let

The clasp slacken even for a little while

Which love and agelong aspiration set

As my one goal: Sweet Mother! shed Thy smile.

4-2-1943

Dedication

What's there in me that I can call my own

And place before Thee as my offering?

For Thy revealing grace has sweetly shown

Of everything Thou art the mother-spring.

A tiniest portion of Thy infinite

Being became these universes vast,

Wherein Thy single breath has breathed a bright

Luxuriant life of mysteries amassed.

And on this earth inert and stupefied

Thou badest me emerge, a blessed being,

A speck but still a centre of the wide

And various play of Thy powers beyond mind's seeing.

And faithfully my conscious nature now

End eavours to work out what Thou hast willed,

And for which Thou hast come here with the vow

That life divine on earth shall be fulfilled.

And every moment now my dull dead clay

Awakes to Life's celestial symphonies,

Transforming all into a blissful play

Of Thy love's supremely sweet profundities.

The miracles of Thy all-surpassing grace

Have chosen to be manifest in me,

And change silently my nature's worthless face

Into a gem of Thy divinity.

A cripple that I am, Thou mak'st me climb

Up heights of heaven I have sensed in dream,

And turn my discord into a sweet rhyme

That makes my dumbness burst into songs supreme.

They are Thy songs, I will not call them mine;

To Thee they are forever dedicated:

But if my childishness, O Mother Divine!

Brings them to Thee and feels too much elated,

Accept them with indulgence, condescend,

And bless me with Thy smile that I may feel

The joy of offering: O! let me bend

Before Thy feet: reveal Thyself, reveal!

And break my night-filled ego-shell beneath

Thy sun-specked feet, that I reborn may rise,

A song full golden dawn's eternal wreath

For Thee to wear and as thine own to prize.

19-2-1943

Give Mother! Give

Give Mother! give Thy jasmine flowers

Give me all bounteously;

Make rich my being's yearning bowers

With blooming purity.

 

How snow-white soft serene and sweet

Their beauty's face doth beam!

Their sight reminds me of Thy feet

That haunt my heart in dream.

 

Their luring loveliness is such

That even for a while

I cannot bear to lose their touch

That fills my soul with smile.

 

Sweet Mother! shower more and more

Thy whiteness in full bloom,

That in these jasmines I adore

And seek to end my gloom,

 

And grow in the likeness of these flowers

That Thou may'st softly kiss

And fill my fleeting earthly hours

With Thy eternal bliss.

 

20-2-1943

Thy Baby-Bard

Now that I have been made Thy baby-bard

By Thee, sweet Mother! Queen of Poesy!

The music of my soul what can retard?

Its rhythms shall flow to Thee unceasingly.

Deep in my rocky heart asleep, imprisoned,

The yearning springs of love's devoted dream

Have heard the call of the Mother-Ocean, visioned

With wonder-thrills, and so to it they stream.

Their rippling joy has now become a lyre

Wherein Thou poorest the sweetness of Thy great

Celestial music-soul of God ward fire

Whose strength can swiftly break the chains of Fate.

My lyre is Thine, upon it Thou may'st play

By day, by night, according to Thy will.

It should be faithful to Thy notes, I pray,

Till chooses Thou to make it sweetly still.

Thy baby-bard shall then repose in Thine

Ambrosial heart of love without a care,

And all his soul shall melt in bliss divine

Which now with music fills our earthly air.

21-2-1943

Only Thee

That I love Thee, only Thee, and nothing else,

Let all my being chant with music sweet;

And all my thrilled and God ward waking cells

Join in the chorus, dreaming of Thy feet.

All tender feelings springing from my heart

That blindly took erroneous paths for long,

Now unify their streams and swiftly start

To bring to Thee their crystal life of song.

From wanderings wild my thoughts returning now

Forget their struggles vain and calmly rest

Upon love's raptured rhythmic fervent flowing

And move with it to their vast waiting quest.

I'll love Thee, Mother! for all time to come,

As in this life, in all my lives to be;

For in Thy heart I've found my hearth and home

Whose warmth shall brace me everlastingly.

Thy call has claimed my separated soul,

In its response my love shall ne'er be slow;

I'm coming, Mother! coming now to roll

In Thy heart of nectar and there immortal grow.

25-2-1943

I will Never Leave

No, Mother! I will never leave

Thy Presence shadow less;

My love shall open to receive

It in my soul's recess.

 

My night that lies prostrate with pain

Shall bare its suffering heart,

And bathed in Thy light shall rise again,

A glory of golden art.

 

Thy smile shall soothe my ancient grief

And fill me with Thy calm;

Thy nectared touch shall bring relief

To my wounds that crave Thy balm.

 

Thy grace-besprinkling glance shall raise

Me from this Death's abyss

And lead me on through Maya's maze

To Thy immortal bliss.

 

There I will live and move, a free

And fretless child of Thine,

An heir to the highest majesty

That crowns Thy brow divine.

27-2-1943

Her Service Tree

I came from far off country side,

— A little lucky thing,

And found the Mother's warm and wide

And lovely waiting wing.

 

The nectar dripping from Her eyes

I drank and still I drink,

And ever to a new life rise

Along sweet link on link.

 

Her Presence stimulates my growth

As nothing else can do;

Whatever comes between us both

I ruthlessly eschew.

 

Her heart has given me lovingly

A sweetest single name,

— Her own, Her darling service tree:

It sets my soul aflame.

 

And firmly fixed, I offer now

To Her all that I can

In willing service, to this vow

Is wedded my life-span.

 

I'll bear the sun and spread my shade

To cool the summer air,

My branching arms, all-well-arrayed

Shall fan Her face with care.

 

And all my love in joy shall flower

To feast Her fondling glance,

And hail Her Presence with a shower

Of fragrant gold in trance.

I'll flourish as Her service tree,

Protected from vile pest

By Her almighty wakefully

Attending love caressed.

 

No evil eye dare turn on me,

No spiteful blow descend,

A child-like spirit and care-free

From joy to joy I ascend.

 

Storms I do face with fortitude,

Their rage may hurt me much,

But all at last is turned to good

By the Mother's magic touch.

 

My broken limbs are soon replaced

By stronger ones that strive

To render service doubly braced

And thus they live and thrive.

 

My fondness for the Mother's feet

Is growing day by day

Into a quenchless flame replete

With God who seeks my clay.

 

And let it grow till I at last

Possess and be possessed

By Her love's sweet self, immortal, vast;

And be for ever blessed.

 

18-5-1943

Birthday Prayer

Mother! let all my being be Thine,

For ever Thine without reserve,

Let but Thy sweetest smile be mine,

Whose soft command I live to serve.

 

To Thee alone and to none other

My soul's allegiance shall repair

With ceaseless service, Gracious Mother!

My worship's flowers golden fair.

 

Let nothing ever come between

Us, Mother! idol of my life,

Let break all barriers seen unseen,

Let in Thy Presence end all strife.

 

Through spaces dark and ages long

My choice has roamed and found at last

The object of its yearning song —

Thy feet of beauty unsurpassed.

 

Star-blossoming heavens are now here

Where tread Thy feet whose nectared touch

Has freed us from all Harm and Fear

And loosened Death's relentless clutch.

 

To these divinest feet's embrace

I give my body, mind and soul:

May I be worthy of Thy grace

Which is my way and waiting goal.

 

I wish I lose myself in Thee

That Thou may'st reign in me supreme;

Let it be granted graciously,

Mother! God's manifested dream!

 

17-6-1943

My Pride

I have renounced my little self for good;

My dwelling be Thy consciousness alone;

Let Thy God-Love's world-embracing wonder-mood

Possess for ever mine of flesh and bone.

A speck of darkness-ridden doleful dust,

Such is that self Earth-Nature has brought forth,

Blown helpless in the breath of Time, accursed,

A futile thing death being its only worth.

How shall I pride in such a thing as this,

When here in Thee God's glory infinite

Dawns on my blindness, Mother! living Bliss,

Embodied Love! mooned Sun in the heart of Night?

I'll cast away this little ness and greet

As mine Thy vast divinest Self Supreme;

Mother! grant to my clasp Thy nectared feet,

That my mortality may immortal beam.

Transformed into a flower of Thy purest Love,

Rich with the multi-coloured wealth of Thy Light,

Let all my being in a dance-whirl move

To offer to Thy feet its kisses bright.

Let nothing of my little self be left,

Lest I claim it erroneously as mine:

I pray of everything to be bereft

Except Thy Presence, Sweetest, All-Benign.

Let me for ever in Thy heart abide

And feel with joy unbound that I am Thine,

Thy own eternal child; be this my pride,

That thou art my own, my self, my Mother Divine.

And thus as in this life in lives to be

Let our union ever deeper grow,

Till Thou and I are one eternity

Of the play of Love and Bliss, above, below.

19-6-1943

For Thee

Each move of my hand for Thy work

Is a wave of uplifting delight,

Defying the down-pull of Murk

And its ramparts of rock-rooted might.

Each step that I solemnly take

On the path of Thy beckoning Light

Is a sovereign rhythm without break

Whose one goal is Thy Self, diamond-white.

Each time that I utter Thy name

With the faith of a child's flowing love,

In response to my cry and my claim

Comes descending Thy Grace from above.

Each thought that proceeds from my mind

As a pilgrim of Truth that Thou holdest

Is a freedom from falsehoods purblind,

And awakens to sight Thou un foldest.

Each moment of life dedicated

To Thee is immortally sweet,

With the heart of Eternity mated

And crowned with Thy Glory infinite.

Each touch of Thy fingers all tender

That my soul at Thy feet doth receive

Is an urge for an utter surrender

To Thy Love that Thou leanest to give.

For Thee is each drop of my blood,

And my being awake or asleep,

All my self in a flowery flood

Shall seek out and be lost in Thy deep.

27-6-1943

I'll Call

I'll call Thee, Mother! all the while,

My breath shall never tire,

My wakeful day's aspiring toil

Shall be a sleepless lyre,

Vibrating with the music of Thy name

And changing me into love's quenchless flame.

I'll call Thee in the sleeping night

When sole the Silence reigns

On the entranced spirit's height

Midst star-blooms' drizzling strains,

Rhyming with Thy rune-word's murmuring mystery

That draws my dream-enchanted soul to Thee.

I'll call Thee when there's joy at play

With laughter and with dance,

To make me move along Thy way

Transgressing not the fence

That stands debarring from vile paths of error

And saves from yawning valleys of dark terror.

I'll call Thee when gloom gathers thick

Like giant clouds of a mighty storm,

To tear its bosom with Thy trick

Of sunny magic and transform

My cry of grief into a brightest song

That shall to the glory of Thy grace belong.

I'll call Thee where're I may be, —

A winging bird in heaven,

Or moving on earth crawlingly

By lowly impulse driven,

I'll call Thee; for I know that Thou shalt answer,

And thus my love for Thee shall grow intenser.

I'll call Thee and will never rest

Till Thou and I are close,

So close that in Thy love's wide breast

My soul in sweet repose

Forgets its self and feels at one with Thee;

And every moment thrills with Joy's eternity.

29-6-1943

Thy Will be Done

Let but Thy will be done,

Mine lost in Thine,

Embodied Ever-Sun

Of Truth divine!

 

Let but Thy living Ray

Nectared, moon-cool,

Bring here God's golden day

O'er earth to rule.

 

Let the night transformed become

An altar vast,

Thy immortal sun-fire's home,

O Glory amassed!

 

Let gods of heaven high

And Titans great

Accept submissively

Thy will, their fate

And help Thy wonder-plan

Becomingly,

To make a god of man

And life death-free,

 

A field where harmonies

Divine would play,

And Love's profundities

Bloom bright as May.

 

Let falsehood's force forsake

Its nightmare game,

And all to Thy Truth-Law take

And brightly claim

Thy Love's down-pouring Grace,

And bathed therein

See Thy dawn's radiant face,

Thy rose divine;

 

And delivered thus from strife

And struggle dark,

Upon a Truth-born life

Enrapt embark

 

And reach the diamond haven

That lies at Thy feet,

Home of the ecstasies seven,

Union complete.

 

7-7-1943

My Prayer

Let all my days and nights of toil be turned

Into a prayer rising straight to Thee,

Mother Divine, who show erect grace unearned

On us out of Thy love unceasingly.

Let all my prayerful thoughts aspire to end

Their journey at Thy feet whose glow gives birth

To a myriad galaxies that far extend

And for which dumbly yearns our Light-lost Earth.

Let all my heart become one rolling stream

Of deep devotion speeding to the sea

Of Thy ever blissful Love, the source supreme

Of gems of Thy own sweet Divinity.

Let all my being in answer to Thy call

Pour on the altar of Thy holocaust

Its offerings — my life, my soul, my all,

Transformed into flame-songs in Thee engrossed.

Mother! let all that I call me and mine

And to which clings my blindness passion-strong

Exist no more apart from Thee and Thine:

Let all my self to Thee alone belong.

5-II-1943

Were I a Little Birdie

Were I a little birdie. Mother!

With wings as of a dove,

I'd fly and find out from its glow

The garden of Thy love.

 

There on an emerald-branch I'd sit

And breathe Thy Eden's air,

And start to sing my sweetest song

That Thou would'st gladly hear.

 

And when Thy heart is fully pleased

I know Thou would'st arise

And call me, "Sweetie, Sweetie mine"

And shed a smile I prize.

 

Then from my branch I'd fly to Thee

And sit before Thy feet.

Would'st Thou not, Mother! pick me

Caressing me, O Sweet!

 

And press me tenderly against

Thy bosom, home of bliss,

And with Thy rubied lips impress

Upon my soul Thy kiss.

 

17-1-1945

I Love

I love to hear Thee, Mother! when

Thou call'st me by my name;

'Tis music wonderful that then

Pours in my heart of flame.

 

I love to gaze and gaze at Thee,

A Goddess true Thou art;

I will instal Thee lovingly

In the temple of my heart.

 

Thy Presence I will never quit,

I'll think and think of Thee;

My soul with warmth shall kiss Thy feet

From where flow nectars free.

 

I7-I-1945

Mother

Thou art my little lovely Mother,

I am Thy little child;

Thou lovest me, I love Thee, Mother!

My joy is running wild.

 

I call Thee, Mother! Mother mine,

Thou callest me Thy dove:

So sweet art Thou, my tenderest Mother!

I love Thee, love Thee, love.

 

I'll always run to Thee, my Mother,

And play around Thy feet;

And in the sun-shine of Thy smile

Live happily, O Sweet!

 

17-1-1945

Come

Oh! do not shout so much, my brother!

For if you do like this,

The music of our sweet good Mother

We all shall have to miss.

Come silently with us and sit,

And wait for Her to come:

The Mother's name you may repeat,

And in your heart may hum.

And when the Mother comes and stands

Before us with Her smile,

'Bon jour, Douce Mere with folded hands

Say and go in a file

To offer your nice flowers in

Her hands that blessings give;

'Tis wise to stop this senseless din

And Mother's grace receive.

 

18-1-1945

Thy Feet

Are these Thy feet, Sweet Mother! say,

Or lotus flowers divine?

They are so beautiful and bright,

I like to make them mine.

 

Theirs is a fragrance such as we

Nowhere have ever found:

'Tis wonderful to breathe it deep,

It brings delight unbound.

 

How soft their touch! it thrills me so!

They charm me evermore:

Let me embrace them, Gracious Mother!

And house them in heart's core.

 

18-1-1945

The Door Divine

The door divine is open, friends!

As open as the day;

And at the door the Mother stands

Bright as a morn in May

 

And there awaits us patiently

Inviting all the while;

She's love incarnate heavenly

With its enchanting smile.

 

Oh! we must run up, leave all play,

The Mother calls us near:

'Tis time to offer flowers and pray

With hearts true and sincere.

 

The Mother wants to bless us all

And give us gifts divine:

Come, at Her Lotus-Feet we'll fall

And sing, "We 're Thine, we 're Thine."

 

18-1-1945

When

When I behold Thee, Mother!

My heart begins to move:

Art Thou a magic magnet,

Of long-forgotten love?

 

When I approach Thee, Mother!

My heart I can't control:

'Tis first to feel Thy feet

That thrill my eager soul.

 

When on Thy feet I press

My lips with warm devotion,

I simply lose my self

In joy's unbounded ocean.

 

18-1-1945

Our Mother

Please ask not questions out of place;

The Mother is our Mother:

She is all love, She is all grace,

Like Her there is none other.

 

How sweetly She is smiling, see,

All beautiful benign;

It takes no time to know that She

Is nothing but divine.

 

We children know how good She is,

How tender and how kind;

She is the very source of bliss

For which we long have pined.

 

Her love is boundless, Earth and Heaven

Both bathe in its sweet shower;

She is our Queen, Her Kingdoms seven

Proclaim Her peace and power.

 

Midst us She moves a goddess fair,

Her glory humanised:

She is so near, She is so dear,

Our dream is realised.

 

She is the One whom we adore

With all our heart and soul;

We love Her ever more and more,

Her service is our goal.

 

18-1-1945

I Remember

I remember Thee, Mother! I always remember,

I cannot forget Thee at all;

So loving art Thou, so forgiving and kind,

And so tender to us, big and small.

I remember Thee, Mother! while I am at work

Or busy with studies or play;

I remember Thee while I'm awake or asleep

Or moving in dreamlands away.

I remember Thee, Mother! wherever I may

Be talking or walking with friends,

And more than remember when I am near Thee,

For then I can touch Thee with hands,

And can offer my flowers and say out my prayers,

And bow down, caressing Thy feet,

And receive Thy blessings that bring us good things

Of Heaven and Earth, infinite.

I remember, Thee, Mother! and want that Thou mayest

Reside in my heart, and for ever;

I will never forget Thee, O Mother Divine,

I will never forget Thee, never.

19-1-1945

A Story

I have a beautiful story, brother!

Come, listen, I will tell;

It is the story of our Mother

Who loves us all so well.

 

Some say that She has come from France,

I say 'tis not quite true.

She has come from a far-off land of Trance

Known only to a few.

 

There on the highest heavenly peak

Of perfect poise and peace,

She talked with God, none heard Her speak

Save snow-white silences.

 

From there She came out of compassion

For the creatures of this earth,

Whose tears of prayer and imploration

Did bring Her down to birth.

 

Her soul of love assumed the form

Of a baby beautiful,

Her Presence made the earth feel warm,

Our fevers began to cool.

 

And then our gracious Mother came

To us who needed Her;

So soon as people heard Her name

Their hearts began to stir

 

And all came flocking to Her place

Of purity, joy and peace,

And when they stood before Her face

Their sorrows had to cease.

Their hearts grew happy, their souls content;

Their age began to vanish,

And when before Her feet they bent

Dark Fears She soon did banish.

 

Then all like new-born babies smiled

Lying on Her lap of love,—

Each one Her darling little child,

Her little lovely dove.

 

And thus it is that we are here,

Her children, one and all:

She is our little Mother dear,

She lives in our heart's hall.

 

We are with Her, She is with us,

Our Mother we never miss:

Our meeting is miraculous,

We rise from bliss to bliss.

 

But do not speak of this to others,

For they are as yet old;

They can not recognise our Mother's

Face of glory and heart of gold.

 

I9-I-1945

Mother's Butterflies

We are the Mother's butterflies,

We haunt Her heavenly bowers;

Her garden all our needs supplies,

And feasts us with its flowers.

 

From bloom to bloom we gaily fly,

And with our wings we fan

Their face of beauty, sweet and shy

Again and yet again.

 

We love the flowers, the flowers love us,

We whisper each to other,

You wish to know? we make no fuss,

We talk about the Mother.'

 

We say, "The Mother's grace has made

Us beautiful and bright.

We're safe, we prosper in Her shade

Which gives us life and light.

 

We are the Mother's butterflies:

The garden of Her love

Responds to all our inner cries,

We're angels in Her grove."

 

19-I-I945

A Dream

I had a dream; I'll tell you, hear;

But questions do not ask:

To answer them would be a drear,

Unpleasant, thankless task.

 

I went to bed at night, you know,

And on my lips there played

Our Mother's name, we all love so;

My sleep was not delayed.

 

I know not at what time in sleep

I dreamed, — I was alone;

Around me all was dark and deep,

And not a star there shone.

 

I saw around me shadows strange

In queer and fearful shapes,

Now in a battle-form arrange,

Now jump like maddened apes.

 

There loomed a silence as of death,

I truly was afraid;

Tense was the time, I held my breath,

With all my heart I prayed.

 

A miracle did happen then,

I saw a hopeful glow

Of rose and red arise as when

'Tis time for the sun to show.

 

Then did the shadows start to melt

And darkness disappear;

An unseen finger's touch I felt,

And I was free from fear.

And as I stood in wonder there;

Out from that rose-red hue

A face appeared divinely fair.

With a smile of grace I knew.

 

My heart was over-joyed at it;

For 'twas the Mother's face;

I ran to Her and clasped Her feet,

She showed much tenderness.

 

She kissed me many times and said,

"My little one! don't fear,

For I was with you ere you prayed,

I am always very near."

 

My heart was over-joyed at this

And tears began to ooze;

I can't describe the boundless bliss

Which all would like to choose.

 

I woke up suddenly, my brother!

To find 'twas morning then:

But still the vision of the Mother

Is vivid in my ken.

 

It haunts me always day and night,

It meets me everywhere,

It makes me happy, makes me bright

For the Mother is always near.

 

20-1-1945

The Queen Magician

You ask me who our Mother is,

I'll tell you, it is grand;

But still I fear — excuse me please —

You will not understand.

 

Well, if you choose, there is a way

Of knowing with the heart,

The heart of heart akin to Ray

And versed in mystic art.

 

Then know you that our Mother is

The Queen Magician great

Who knows all magic mysteries

With which She fashions Fate.

 

Although She looks like one of us,

In truth She is something else:

She wields a power miraculous;

All-potent are Her spells.

 

She is a living image of

God's glory unsurpassed,

A fathomless far-reaching love

Is in Her heart amassed.

 

No ordinary limbs She has,

They are all forms of light;

Her hands which tenderly caress

Are rays that strike down night.

 

Her feet are lotus-beauty-blooms

Which angels come to kiss;

Their presence is the death of glooms,

Their touch from bonds release.

 

She is always busy with Her art

Of brightest mysteries

Still here, She moves in every part

Of every world with ease.

 

She presses with Her feet the clay,

It comes to sudden life;

She blesses and without delay

Peace ends all painful strife.

 

She touches, and dross disappears,

And you see shining gold;

She looks, and fly away all fears,

And happy days unfold.

 

Her magic art can change the dark

Mean charcoal into bright

Rich diamonds' world-attracting spark,

A star, a sovereign sight.

 

From fallen stones She makes fine gems

Of unique highest worth;

From mud She on nice emerald-stems

Brings lotus-life to birth.

 

She fashions out of human clod

A new diviner man,

Whose life shall be Truth's life in God,

Eternity its span.

 

And many more such things She does;

We cannot know their nature;

For we are pigmies, all of us,

Too small is our soul-stature.

 

Such is our Mother you want to know,

Magician Queen is She;

But to know her truly we must grow

Into Her spirit free.

 

20-1-1945

The Mother's Family

How much the Mother loves rose flowers!

I think they are Her family;

They can approach Her at all hours.

Her heart receives them readily.

 

She hails them with a smile so sweet

That they abandon all reserve,

And smilingly look up to greet

Her tenderness which they deserve.

 

They yearn to kiss Her feet; but ere

Their lips are warmly pressed, She bends

And lightly picks them up from there

With Her affectionate lovely hands.

 

Her fingers fondly play with them;

She showers on them Her kisses,

And gives them many a darling name;

All this their joy increases.

Then they are taken to Her room

Where happily they live,

And grow from bloom to brighter bloom

And more Her love receive.

 

How nice it is to be a rose!

I wish that I were one, say pink:

Oh! what a peaceful sweet repose

Would then be mine! in joy I'd sink.

 

22-1-1945

Everywhere

Oh! who says that the Mother lives

There only in Her Ashram-house,

And from there everyday She gives

Darshan to those whom She allows?

 

No doubt, She's there, to Her we go

And give our flowers and say our prayer,

And then receive four times or so

Her smile of grace, and say, "Douce Mere";

 

But I don't miss Her presence sweet

At other times and places too;

Believe me, everywhere I meet

Her ever-smiling face: don't you?

 

All things are full of Her, it seems,

All living and non-living things;

She is in sleep, She is in dreams,

She 's with us in our wanderings.

 

She is in you, She is in them,

She's in that tree and in the sky,

She rides the wind; I hear Her name

Sung by the sea-waves ceaselessly.

 

But nearest does She dwell within;

The soul sees Her and thrills with joy;

The heart knows Her as love divine,

And tastes Her bliss time can't destroy.

 

23-1-1945