-09_Rosary 264 Quatrains are You are One

Sweet Mother! grant that we may simply be,

From now and always for all time to come,

Thy little children growing happily In Thy great heart of

Love, our brightest home.

Thou art the sweetest flower ever known;

Thy heart, all nectar's fountain, never dries;

We'll fly to Thee and claim Thee as our own,

Sweet Mother! we Thy baby butterflies.

Our day begins not with morn's roses fine,

But, Mother! only when we can behold

The glory of Thy beauty's dawn divine,

Impelling us to God's own realms of gold.

Oh, what a grace! Sweet Mother! that Thy high

And reach less balconies Thou hast disdained

And come to craving Earth's low balcony

To bless us cripples with wings unrestrained.

Thy smile of love and light I seek Sweet,

Mother sweet!

Give strength and courage to my weak

Yet willing feet,

That I may follow up Thy faithful call

And greet Thee face to face in Heaven's hall.

What an unearthly smile Thy beauty bears!

Its magic Ray's maternal touch transforms

Into bright pearls of joy our prayerful tears,

And into peace serene dark sway of storms.

I need no other thing, sweet Mother ! saye

Thy gracious smile, the source of all that's best;

Let not proud riches nor poor wants deprave

My soul, the baby bird nursed in Thy nest.

1 like to be a little pinkish rose

In Thy bright Eden now in spring on earth,

For I know then Thy heart shall give repose

To me, Sweet Mother! God's grace come to birth.

Oh, what a magic balm is Thy simple touch!

It heals all sores in no time as it were,

And into a form divine transforming us

Crowns us with Peace serene and raptures rare.

Thy Presence comes whenever there's a call:

It brings us help if we be in dark fear

And bloom of joy if sorrow should befall;

Mother! it's sweet to find Thee always near.

Thy eyes are, Mother! like two gleams of the fire

Of love housed in Thy human form divine.

For a kindly ray from them our souls aspire,

Drawn closer to Thee, sweetness-bearing Vine!

I love the white, for Mother! it is born

Of Thy divinest smile of purity:

Grant that its blooming richness may adorn

My being's bower's praying poverty.

When Mother! I bowed down with love to kiss

The bloom and beauty of Thy lotus-feet,

I found the fabled fount of ever-bliss,

A sip from which defied Death's dreadful wit.

I will not seek in vain what none can give,

True love, immortal life and God's delight:

I'll join you little children and receive

All that and more from the Mother's bounty bright.

Art Thou made of some all-consuming fire

Or all-reviving heaven's nectar sweet?

For evils at Thy very sight retire,

While loving souls come rushing to Thy fell.

All riches of this world and heavens high

Together are but nothing when compared

With those that at Thy feet, sweet Mother! lie

As dust with which vast suns and stars are reared.

How to our world, since ages in a swoon

Under the spell of a death-dripping Night,

Thou earnest like a wane less nectared moon,

Sweet Mother! with immortal life, love, light!

It's sweet to think of Thee and sweeter still

To be the object of Thy gracious thought;

But the sweetest thing of all is to live Thy will

With all our rhyme less wills reduced to nought.

Thy every limb is nectar crystallized:

Sweet Mother! say, is it because of this

That at Thy touch our spirit paralysed

Becomes a power of peace, up borne by bliss?

Thou art the sweetest self of God-delight

Condensed into a human form benign;

For, else why should our spirit at Thy sight

Surge up with joy to kiss Thy grace divine?

So long as Thy sweet Presence is with us,

What fear have we from any quarters dark?

For then will open heavens luminous

Wherein we'll sing on like a happy lark.

To live for Thee and labour for Thy love,

The greatest blessing to our lowly earth,

We would have missed had not from God's own

Thy unborn Beauty come to human birth.

What music can be sweeter than the one

That is released from every syllable

That leaves Thy lips, as radiance from the sun:

How fortunate the soul blessed with its thrill.

When there is Thy remembrance in the heart,

How futile arc Night's efforts, Mother dear!

To put her bar of swoon's short death and part

My soul from Thee and fling it into Fear!

It's like a honey-dripping canopy,

Enveloping our soul, protecting us

Like a bright shield that with Thy memory

Comes into being, Mother nectarous!

No sooner did my love remember Thee

Than with a wave of joy Thy Presence came

Unseen, from where I know not, secretly

And shone within my heart like a moon-flame.

When Thou art near, Sweet Mother, with Thy tender

Miracle-working smile, we feel uplifted

Towards that heaven of joy which self-surrender

Alone can hope to reach, with Thy grace gifted.

Well do I know that snow-white peaks are dear

To Thy immaculately lofty taste:

That's why my ideal is that crystal-clear

Kailasa with Thy gracious foot-falls blest.

Thy love's outpour, Sweet Mother! takes the form

Of bounties which en gods would want to win:

What wonder then if beggared humans swarm

To fill their fortune with Thy wealth divine.

To work for Thee, Sweet Mother! is to work

For the up building of one's destiny,

Beyond the reach of the tyrant reign of Murk,

Safe in Thy heart of love's eternity.

Augustest is that moment, Mother! when

We rise from the bright dust, lying at Thy feet,

And face the brightest thing, Thy smile serene,

Reflected on our lips that welcome it.

I did not know that every moment is

A whole eternity in a form compressed,

Till at Thy touch I was lost in a bliss

Wherein with this sweet knowledge I was blessed.

Oh, what a wonder that before Thy Presence

Age drops away, a dead thing like a stone,

And our being is blessed with the renaissance

Of an eternal childhood all can own.

To stand Thy smile is not an easy thing:

For, Mother! it is too sweet for our heart,

And overjoyed its madness starts to sing,

Though it knows little of that noble art.

To hear Thee, Mother! call me by my name

Is well worth waiting for through ages long;

For it enkindles in my heart that flame

Of God-love which bursts forth into a song.

Supremely sweet is that forgetfulness

Wherein all other memories are lost,

Save only Thine whose splendours then possess

The void of worship's heart in Thee engrossed.

Without Thy Grace, Great Mother! what am I ?

A mere lump of clay and nothing more:

It's only Thy quick love that doth supply

Me with all rhymes and rhythms that freely pour.

Night ceases to be night, fears fly away,

All fevers cool down, no sufferings remain,

If only Thy sweet Grace is there; — we pray

That we be blessed with its eternal reign.

A nectar-ladden cloud — such is Thy Grace,

Low-leaning, ever-raining, far out-spread:

Sprung from Thy ocean-heart of love, it has

To shower Thy gifts of life on deserts dead.

Thy heights are, Mother! far beyond the reach

Of failing human strength,

And dark-faced obstacles determined which

Crowd all the uphill length;

But since Thy all-victorious feet have come to lead,

Our weaknesses shall kiss Thy snow-white peaks indeed!

Thou art but one, there are beings infinite

Whose suffering wants address Thee all the hours;

Yet what a Grace that on me, human mite,

Thou poorest, Mother Sweet, Thy love in showers.

To talk with Thee, Sweet Mother! is to talk

With Truth itself, eternal, spotless, white,

Inviting erring earthly feet to walk

Up to Thy sun-peaked glory's moon-cool height.

I'll sing and sing, Sweet Mother! all day sing,

A happy bird awakened by Thy Ray,

In the garden of Thy Love in fullest spring;

For silence is a sin when calls God's May.

Thy mighty Feet, Sweet Mother! I adore,

In whose protecting presence, big and small,

Free from vile Fear can prosper more and more

And be possessors of bright riches all.

I can now say that I have found that balm,

Famed for its promptly healing property:

It is the Mother's wonder-working palm

Whose slightest touch can heal all readily.

Who can describe the sweetness of the state

In which one meets without as well within

Thy smile of Grace divine, immaculate,

Which gently wipes off every stain of sin.

Is it the ocean of eternal bliss

In Thy great heart, Sweet Mother! billowing

Whose moon-white magic efflorescence is

Thy smile, into joy transmuting suffering?

It's wonderful, the sweetness that we taste

When with all ardour in our lips we kiss

Thy nectared feet: so how can we make haste

And move away from that divinest bliss?

A burning patience is Thy master-mood,

O missioned Love of God, Augustest form,

Thy smile is working out world's greatest good

Through blood and strife and thundering rage of storm.

Who can resist the charm that emanates

From Thy divinely gracious Presence sweet?

Before it all unfriendly evil frets

Die down and all begin to love Thy feet.

Thy glance is like a dart of finest flame

Divinely shot to burn through masses thick

Of darkness where the Glory of God's Name

Shall be established by Thy footsteps quick.

What little I do is but for Thy pleasure

And not with any claim for a return;

Yet what I get from Thee beyond all measure

Is such that even gods would for it burn.

Nor gods nor titans dare transgress

Her will, Such is Her all-commanding majesty;

Yet how the Queen of queens, the Mother still,

Plays with us like a child delightedly.

All those that strive against Thy will are doomed:

For they are up against God's Power on earth;

None can destroy the Truth Thou hast enwombed, —

The world will witness with a thrill Its birth.

At times when I can see behind Thy guise,

I am confronted with a majesty

And glory crowned with suns of other skies:

And that's Thy Face, O Mother Mystery.

I hold the pen and the Mother uses it

To give a form of speech to rhymes that gush;

But people know this not and try to treat

Me as a singer sweet, which makes me blush.

Let me forget not, Mother! that it is Thou

Who art the source of every thing in me,

And that it is Thy Grace descending now

That has stirred up my heart which sings to Thee.

My love for Thee is a sacrificial thing,

And to the altar of Thy Saviour Name

Shall run enraptured as an offering

And be a blessed part of the Mother Flame.

Dost Thou, Sweet Mother, ever sleep or not?

For day and night I get the fragrance of

Thy lotus-face, divinest bloom, unsought,

Showering on me its mothering nectared grace.

Since, Mother, Thy love seeks in me a home,

I will clear off from my heart all the rest

And make it empty like the heaven's dome

So that its infinite glory may manifest.

The rhymes that come to me are but the songs

Of a bright bird perched hidden in some grove:

Is it to Thee, Sweet Mother! that it belongs,

The bird of the burning passion of Thy love?

It is a harvest rich that I have reaped

And still am reaping, Sweet Mother! from Thy farm:

My heart is singing, for, the fortune heaped

Is a divine possession safe from harm.

The more I work for Thee the less I tire,

Sweet Mother! for Thy strength possesses me:

It's only when I lose devotion's fire

That weakness overtakes me instantly.

Thy service is the source of blessings all;

Sweet Mother! grant us more and more of it,

So that our worthless clay may soon install

Thy Presence, home of Glory infinite.

What can't Thy wonder-working earthward Grace

Accomplish? Mother, Power of God in birth!

Its single touch can instantly efface

Night's stain, Death's dread and make a heaven of earth.

My life shall gladly serve Thee, Mother Sweet!

With all the power of will it has in store,

And but one touch of Thy redeeming Feet

Is all that it may ask for, and nothing more.

It is a grace that Mother always prays

For the world blindly struggling imbecile;

And though disowned by heinous faithlessness

On all is shed Her sweet maternal smile.

We are but children, Mother! foolishness

Is natural to our growing little souls:

Our love has faith that the wisdom of Thy Grace

Will safely carry us to brighter poles.

Full-silly babble loveless hearts doth tire,

Yet how indulgent Thou art with its flow!

And though Thou hast a heart of quickest Fire,

An endless patience how Thy love can show!

Thy love has come and at our very doors

Is waiting with a patience none has known;

Sweet Mother! how it is shy! it does not force

Itself in but stands knocking gently on.

On feet of silence always comest Thou,

And, Mother, we have neither ears nor eyes;

Then graciously Thy tender touch bestow

So that our joy may surge to kiss Thy skies.

But one thing, Mother, is most dear to me,

And it's to worship Thee with service-flowers

That drop to kiss Thy feet adoringly

And bathe them with their love's sweet-scented showers.

Thy Peace is slowly drizzling down on me,

Its soft caress is soothing all my limbs;

A quiet joy is rippling charmingly

And love's domain is ringing with sweet chimes.

My sleep has now begun to sing .Thy name.

And with the joy of an awakened day; S

wet Mother! so my waking hours must aim

To be more worthy of Thy Grace, I pray.

I've learnt some magic, sitting at Thy feet,

Queen of magicians, Mother, born to rule;

For though my eyes are closed I can see Thy sweet

And smiling Presence, more than beautiful.

What wast Thou busy with, Sweet Mother! when

I lay a dead mass in the night death-rife?

I felt the breath of Thy Grace come down to fan

My slow fire into flames of love-born life.

What worthless thing is there that won't become

A wonder grand, Magician! Mother Sweet!

If only Thy touch chooses it for some

Bright miracle that all would jump to greet.

Oh, what a pity, Mother! that we call

Thee from one side and from the other faster

The enemies of Good, who one and all

Are but too willing to bring us disaster!

The trouble is that, Mother, we invite

What needs to be expulsed with holy ire:

That's why we pray Thy Grace must come and smite

Down our dark protégés and not retire.

How often are we under the dark spell

Of sleep belonging to Death's family!

And we would have been beggared by robbers fell

Had not Thy Love stood sentinel sleeplessly!

Magnetic is Thy Presence, O Sweet of name!

Divinely pulling all, base ores of earth,

Towards the core of Thy love's transmuting flame

At whose touch they attain their highest worth.

Come, Mother! come, and do not hesitate

To step into my soul's inviting shrine:

True, it's not in a pure and pleasing state,

Yet it's Thy Presence that can make it shine.

I will not let Thee slip away so soon,

Sweet Mother! for Thou art my sole delight:

Without Thee everything goes out of tune,

And what remains is a moonless gloomy night.

Grant me not anything, Mother! that might

Divert my consciousness away from Thee;

My blindness sees not what is wrong and right;

So let Thy sun-eyed Grace see Truth for me.

Which way, Sweet Mother! wilt Thou from Thy shore

Come and be pleased to grace my poor abode?

Or rather let me open every door

And wait and watch to greet Thee, Love of God.

No one who has not bent to kiss the dust

That lies before Thy glorious feet can know

The thrill of love divine for which one must

Lay down his all and humbly learn to bow.

Mother! Thy name is sweet, so very sweet

That my enamoured love's invoking breath

Shall with its nectar make each moment fleet

A heaven immortal mocking at dark Death.

I dreamt, Sweet Mother! that I too will ask

Some present from Thee which my heart shall treasure;

But when Thou earnest I thought I'd rather bask

In the warm sunshine of Thy smile of pleasure.

Let my life be one vast playground pure like flame

Where love and worship may for ever play

With the sweetness and the splendour of Thy

Name Free from the grasp of shadows cold and grey.

My faithless eyes are prone to stony sleep

And thus debarred from Thee, Love's living glow;

But that Thy sleepless eyes do ever drip

Their tender looks on me is so sweet to know.

Thy self is so transparent hyaline,

Yet who can even glimpse the mysteries

Housed there for ever, Mother, Soul divine,

Unless Thy Grace reveal them to blind eyes!

The Mother's Grace is raining all the time,

O oyster shell, my heart, receive a drop

That may become a pearl of ray sublime

Worth more than all the heaven's starry crop.

True faith in Thee is a heaven-wrought armour-plate

That can't be pierced by any deadly darts

Released by those dark ones who blindly hate

Thee, Love of God, sought by all burning hearts.

Though like a nectared moon all sweet and cool

Thy Presence is to love, but still in truth

It's like a flaming fire to the evil school

Which fully feels its ire that shows no Ruth.

What does not instantly become a thing

Of beauty, Mother Sweet! when Thou art there?

For it's Thy charm of which all heavens sing

That's then at work in the surrounding air.

True love and tenderness are like the moon

And its fascinating finery of rays:

If this be so, Sweet Mother! I'll always tune

My harp and sing that Thine is love's own face.

More tender than the tenderest Eden-flower,

Thy feet, O Love Divine! have come all nude

To the sharpest roughness at the cruellest hour

For us, yet where are the tears of gratitude?

It is only when Thy soul-uplifting Power

Is in me, Mother Great, Omnipotent,

That I towards Thy heavens rise each hour:

Without it I am faced with a dark descent.

How difficult it is to hold Thy Grace,

O Gracious One! for our own vessels leak

Or tilt or turn away from it their face

Or for its constant presence prove too weak.

100

Oh, say not that the Grace has left thee, brother!

It's not so easy to turn Her away;

For it is flowing from the heart of the Mother,

The heart of Love Divine that seeks our clay.

101

Without Thee life is a vain struggle in

A sea of forces darkly raging on;

But with Thee, Mother, it's a dance divine

In rubied realms of pearled peace at dawn.

102

When shadows vile pursue the flowering grace

Of heart's delight born of sweet purity,

Delay not, Mother! come uncalled to bless

Me with Thy moonlight's heartening charity.

103

Sweet Mother! pardon me if there be some

Partiality in me for them, Thy feet;

For when Thou earnest down from Thy high Home,

Their friendliness was the first thing we could meet.

104

To love and serve Thee, Mother, by all means

The worship of a true heart can employ,

Shall be my life-work which against the grins

Of dark adversities I'll do with joy.

105

Thy touch doth always bring delight to me,

Sweet Mother! whether it be soft and pleasing,

Welcomed by everybody readily,

Or hard like a strong blow from sins releasing.

106

When will my heart become an altar vast

And beautiful to house Thy holy Fire

Of love divine that brings bright boons amassed

To the sacrificing spirit's God-desire?

107

Install in me, Great Mother, Thy puissant Will

Whose conquering fervour breaks down all proud bars,

Gives wings to feet that seek Thy highest hill

Of snow-white Splendour kissed by heaven's stars.

108

However much, Sweet Mother! Thou may'st try,

Thy Presence can't remain a secret long,

For the emanating light reveals Thee nigh,

And at Thy sight bursts forth soul's sweetest song.

109

True, worthiness can claim Thee as its own,

But it's unworthiness that needs Thee most.

Is it for that, Sweet Grace! that Thou hast shown

An utmost leniency to those all lost?

110

Thine is the brightest of all magic's bright

And the most silent too, O Charm Divine!

A single glance of Grace, and from the fright

Of dark abyss we are on heights hyaline.

111

Sweet Mother! tell me whom should I believe,

Myself or those that say that Thou art one?

For in these myriad forms I do perceive

Thy soul-enchanting smile, divinest moon.

112

No mind can, Mother, ever understand

How in tensest passion and serenest peace

Can in Thy heart live closely hand in hand,

So closely that they have a common face.

113

The conflagration of hell's hungry fevers

Would have consumed all souls, had not Thy Grace

Come, Mother, down in floods of nectared rivers

From the tenderest eyes of Love's low-leaning face.

114

It's touching, Mother, that when're we call

Thy Love comes running quick to serve our prayer;

But it's most touching that though by a fall

Our cry be in a swoon, it's always there.

115

How hast Thou held in Thy most human heart,

Sweet Mother, Love Divine that can't be measured

Or is Thy humanness an intimate part

Of Love's infinity in God's heart treasured?

116

Eyes can but see. Sweet Mother, Thy beignets

Moon-face of Love that blessed a human mould;

But when wilt Thou Thy Spirit-Self's divinest

All-Beauty to our earthiness unfold?

117

I know, Sweet Mother! why there's on Thy face

A smile eternal, cooler than the moon:

And it's because world's infinite distress

Is in great need of such a soothing boon.

118

Each step Thou takest, Mother, on the earth

Leaves an eternal mark of heaven's glow

For the divine creation on whose birth

The blessings of Thy love will freely flow.

119

Is it Thy Love, Sweet Mother, that has made

Us free from the curse of time, world's mortal foe

For we secure here under Thy bright shade

Feel not the passage dread of years of woe.

120

My God-Love is as yet a smoldering fire

Whose token-glow is buried in deep smoke.

Thy storm-breath, Mother Kali, O Gracious Ire,

May I not then with folded hands invoke?

121

It's wonderful to be in that sweet state

In which we are dead to all that's not in tune

With Thee, O Mother Love, wide Heaven's Gate;

Alive alone to Thee, God's greatest boon.

122

Who says that love is blind and cannot see?

Perhaps it's loveless hearts that so complain:

For the more I love the Mother sincerely

The more I get the sight that sees Truth plain.

123

Oh, who can ever reach Thy Being's height

Except God's Love that crowns its crest sublime?

Thy Grace may then, Great Mother, smile at the plight

Of pigmy pride that boasts that it can climb.

124

I turned away from Thee and sought for peace,

But wherever I went I only found

Distress and not from troubles my release,

Till I embraced Thy Feet of Grace unbound.

125

If I am asked what bliss is the most sweet,

I'll answer even in my darkest hours

That it's that of abandonment complete

At the Mother's Feet, divinest lotus flowers.

126

Love leads to knowledge and knowledge leads to Love

And service meek to sweetest master hood;

This is what I, a simple seeker of

Thy Grace, have learnt when in a self-lost mood.

127

It's heaven's breeze, Sweet Mother, that we feel

When Thy reviving presence passes by;

And at its touch our being all athrill

Wakes to the kinship it has with the High.

128

It seems to me, Sweet Mother, that time and space

And all the worlds are with Thy Presence full;

For where sever be my consciousness

Its prayer reveals Thy smile nectareal cool.

129

The music of Thy foot-falls, Mother, comes

From everywhere and sweet enchantingly,

Reverberating in our inmost domes

It wakes up sleeping souls that dream of Thee.

130

It's heaven Mother where Thy feet do move

And where Thy vernal warmth awakes in us

A spring divine rich with sweet blooms of love

Greeted with songs by birds miraculous.

131

How dost Thou, Mother, know our all so quick

And even what we hide with so much care,

Unless Thou art our own self trying a trick

Of heart-enchanting charm of beauty rare?

132

Yes, Mother, we have yet to know to be

A living benediction as Thou art,

But to that great fulfilment lovingly

Is pressing us Thy universal heart.

133

What else need I, Sweet Mother, when Thy Grace

Is so bounteously disposed towards my good?

My love will rather look up for Thy face

With the silence of true worship's self-lost mood.

134

It's dance, Sweet Mother, that runs up to Thee

To meet and greet Thy smile's eternal grace

Which makes its rhythms increase progressively

And will one day make them run a raptured race.

135

When love accepts Thee, Mother, and life's will

Turns all its service-strength towards Thy Grace,

A miracle takes place which the soul athrill

Feels as a part of its own consciousness.

136

Thy footfalls have awakened even Death

To the great longing for immortality:

Which soul will then stir not, the soul who hath

With Thee an intimate affinity?

137

"My child!" how sweet it is to hear Thee say!

Mother! it is a wonder-working word,

It frees the soul from age and death's decay

And makes the heart a heaven-haunting bird.

138

Two purest and divinest lotuses

Are these Thy feet, whose fragrance fills the air;

So nectar-thirsty eager human bees

Most hurriedly to their sweet grace repair.

139

I will complain, Sweet Mother, evermore complain,

Oh, not against Thy never-failing ready Grace,

But against the falsity of my own being profane

That tries so often to betray me to dark distress.

140

Is it not, Mother, true it's my own fault

More than of others when I lose my peace

And soul's serenity, when I must halt

And cure myself from my own being's disease?

141

I know not, Mother, what is most in Thee,

Sweet humanness loved so much by the heart

Or the divinest Self-sublimity

To which our soul has grown alive in part?

142

Although Thou knowest me I know not Thee:

Is it because, Sweet Mother, on Thy part

Thou hast surrendered all Thyself to me

And become my being while I withhold my heart?

143

Luckiest are those little innocents

Who in the cradle of Thy heart of love

Enjoy in ecstasy the sweet descent

Of Thy maternal kisses from above.

144

0 tender-hearted! Thy compassion is

Beyond all bounds, and with its sweet thought if

Quick gratefulness with tear-drops dimmed my eyes,

I would consider blessed is my life.

145

I wonder why for Thy mercy people pray

As if it did not come down like a fall;

The heart has simply to become a tray .

And gratefully receive its blessings all.

146

On one side there is gloom and on the other

The sunny smile of sweet Eternity

Come down to us as Thou, our tenderest Mother,

Oh, who will ever turn away from Thee!

147

How much Thou work est for us day and night

Against our blind resistance patiently,

So that we may be heirs to kingdoms bright,

O Queen of Heaven! but what do we do for Thee?

148

To lose the sense of time and the sense of space,

To see not, hear not, think not of other things,

But to move on led by Thee, O Mother Grace!

Towards Thy Truth is what my spirit sings.

149

Who can describe the joy of work that's done

For Thee, Sweet Mother, with love's selfless aim,

And heart and soul and body all at one

With the music of Thy all-enchanting Name.

150

1 was searching for my fortune's rising star,

But in the heavens could not find its trace:

And how to find it? On a level par

It was smiling sweetly on the Mother's face.

151

A lotus creeper wonderful Thou art,

Mother Divine, born in life's lucky pool:

Thy face, eyes, hands, feet are all like Thy heart,

Enchanting lotus-blooms all-beautiful.

152

What was love like we knew not, Mother, till

We found it in Thy person facing us:

Oh, how it's all tenderness and blissful smile

And all about it is miraculous!

153

Heaven desired earth's long-lost comradeship,

It called her from above but earth too slow

Responded not; so it came down to keep

Its promise and settled on the Mother's brow.

154

Too far, too high, Sweet Mother, Thy abode

Of Bliss eternal for weak man's desire

We need not pine for now, O Grace of God,

Since Thou Thyself art here, O Bliss entire!

155

Dost Thou precede the call or follow it? —

Sweet Mother, it confounds my thinking part;

For ere Thy name addressing lips doth quit,

The movement of Thy Presence stirs my heart.

156

The more I take Thy name the more in me

Awakes the dormant spark of love divine,

And out from choking smoke adoringly

Lifts up its flame of worship to Thy shrine.

157

Thy name is, Mother, like a magic bait

To which are drawn all things and beings divine:

Then let my breath become its constant mate

And fish and make all heaven's glory mine.

158

Each time, Sweet Mother, that Thy holy name

Emerges from my heart and leaves for Thee,

A nameless something comes in bright as flame

And settles in my soul delightingly.

159

I was a dead thing moving like a ghost

In a dark world where reigned Death's tyranny,

Till Love was born as Thou, Beloved most,

Whose Name brought me resurrection's ecstasy.

160

Oh, say not that name is but Maya's game,

A nothingness, not a reality,

For I know closely one, the Mother's name,

Which is more real than either you or I.

16l

There is no music sweeter than the one

That echoes in my being when I repeat

The rune-word of Thy Name in a love- steeped tone.

And in unison with which heart starts to beat.

162

I know that Thou art pleased with what is true,

And not with falsehood though disguised as fact:

O Truth incarnate, Mother, then I should woo

Thy smile benign through truth in thought and act.

163

Proud spirit thought that it would meet Thee first,

Sure of strong eagle-wings that it possessed;

But cried in agony the body accursed —

And lo! Thy feet first turned to it in haste!

164

Once in Thy heart of Love what fear is there

Of darkness, sorrow, suffering or want?

For it's the source of Light where suns repair

And which all heavens of bliss and plenty haunt.

165

The strength that does not swiftly serve Thy will,

Sweet Mother, with devotion's humble mood

Is a strong weakness barring like a hill

With which Thy Grace has to be rather rude.

166

Spontaneous service is love's self-expression,

Thy life is teaching us in silence sweet:

Wish we too had in us such a service passion

Exclusively turned towards Thy gracious Feet.

167

Those gifts divine that rain from Thee in prayer,

I'll soil not with mean greed that sticks to things,

But will worshipfully treasure them with care,

And make of them my service-offerings.

168

How strange that we forget the only thing

That can cure us of ills and illnesses,

Thy potent Name, when we are suffering,

And, Mother, seek what brings us more disease!

169

My soul loves to sing and to sing for ever

Songs whose one refrain is Thy sweetest name

Sometimes in silence and sometimes in never

Tiring tunes that dance on like a stream.

170

Sweet Mother, wonder not if humans fail

To hold the richness of Thy Love and Bliss;

Their hearts are too divided and too frail

For what Thy heart alone can store in peace.

I71

Thy love divine is like a new-born child,

A soul of innocence and feels at home

With children only, flower-like, undefiled,

Sweet Mother, pure and white like the whitest foam.

172

Thy Feet befriend but Eden-flowers tender,

And crooked thorns are what they love the least:

Then, Mother, is it Thy sweet soul's surrender

That they are here where thorns alone exist?

173

Don't try to be the judge, my silly mind,

Of what thy darkness vain can never know;

Be rather open and be more inclined

To hail the Mother's Light that brings Truth's glow.

174

Who can enjoy Thy Grace and, Mother, yet

Forget that one has no more to desire

Things that come not through Thy bright Heaven's gate

But rise from the stench of meanest murk and mire?

175

I won't believe, Sweet Mother, though all may say,

God's glory can't be reached by humans lame;

For my eyes do see and lips touch every day

The feet on which She moves here in Thy frame.

176

It's sight for gods to see Thee, Mother, wield

Great Indra's thunderbolt to strike down bands

Of juggling robbers dark, then forced to yield

Life-waters back to Thy deserving sands.

177

Is it true, Mother, Thy Divinity

Desired to be Earth's darling sweetest soul

That the yearning heart of her humanity

May clasp and feel that it has clasped its goal?

178

There's everything eternal, Mother dear,

About Thy Presence,—sweet smile, warm love, swift grace,

Soft eyes, sublimest beauty's charm snow-clear:

Or has Eternity assumed Thy face?

179

Love is a weapon no one can resist,

And Thou hast it in its perfects power;

That's why, Sweet Mother, man as well as beast

Come suing Thy gracious mood from hour to hour.

180

You can't complain, my friend, that life tastes sour

Before you've turned exclusively your mind

Towards the Mother, the nectar-hearted flower

Of Love Divine whose grace is world-inclined.

181

To call Thee with the mouth and turn the heart

Away from Thee is not the way to call;

Sincerity of being in every part

Is what Thy Presence loveth most of all.

182

The way is long and dangers numberless,

And we too slender streams with little strength:

O Flood divine, we'll merge our life-streams base

In Thy heart sublime, and reach the goal at length.

183

Innocent, simple souls, empty of guile

And sweet like flowers and open like the sky

Possess a beauty sought out by Thy smile

And kiss, O Love, Divine Maternity!

184

I'll try to imitate Thee, Love Divine,

Though, Mother, too sublime are Thy being's ways;

Some day my life may thus become a sign

Of Thy sublimity to crown my days.

185

The object of my love, land-lotuses

Are not the ones that lie there as I see

Before Thee, Mother, but in truth they're these

Thy feet whose grace has cast a spell on me.

186

To sing of Thee is sweet, yes, very sweet,

And I will sing so long as love inspires;

Nor any intoxication make me quit

Thy service, Mother, which my song desires.

187

The little that I know of Thee has made

Me a devotee of Thy Self of Bliss:

It's quite enough for me, for I'm afraid

More knowledge may deprive me of Thy kiss.

188

Thy glory is my life's but one concern

And not the little self that I call mine;

All pleasure in petty ends my heart shall spurn

And all my powers shall serve Thy work divine.

189

A diamond-flame spread out in boundless space

And rising to heights lost in mystery: Such is

Thy being, Mother, that through Thy grace

Reveals itself to the awakened eye.

190

Thy timeless Spirit, Mother, who can vision

Or lay a hand on Thy infinity?

But those whom Thy Grace has chosen have admission

Through the Sun-Gate to Thy Self's intimacy.

191

The hardships of a journey million-mile

Are nothing, Mother, if but at its end

We meet Thy nectar-dripping lunar smile

And bathe in blessings pouring from Thy hand.

192

Wings give to birds their songs that make each grove

A joyful home of stirring symphonies;

But to me it is the song of the Mother's love

That gives quick wings invading higher skies.

193

When Maya thinks her prey is quite secure,

Blind-folded as it is in her magic maze,

Thy Grace, Sweet Mother, smiles; for she is sure

Of her own all-knowing freedom-giving ways.

194

How wonderful! Sweet Mother, that to wait

For Thee with love's true aspiration is

To speed towards that superconscient state

Wherein all sense of self is lost in Bliss.

195

A step towards Thee, Mother, with the heart,

If nothing more, against obstacles strong,

Is worth the labour of a life's best part;

For it is a mounting step and never wrong.

196

Here in this world of shadows chasing light,

And every moment where death's danger looms,

Thou movest, Sun-faced, Mother of the Bright,

Thy footfalls waking the dead from their cold tombs.

197

Pray, tell me, Mother, what wast Thou like, ere

Thou leftist the glowing heart of God for Earth?

Wast Thou a ruby rich or sapphire rare,

Or a diamond from which heaven's stars had their birth?

198

Why Mother, Thou art partial to the rose,

The heart's devotion has now understood,

And, with a song she will reply "Because

The rose reflects love's consecrated mood."

199

They say that we do not possess a heart;

And it is true; for, Mother from Thy heaven

Thou earnest down and by Thy magic art

Madest us heart-lost, to Thy sweet love all-given.

200

Then, come, Sweet Mother, take possession of

My all and all my being, nothing leave;

Make me completely Thine, O boundless Love,

I lay before Thy feet my life, receive.

201

Is it Thy laughter, or an outburst of

Delight of God into rhythmic running waves

Of music other-worldly, Mother, Love,

Invading the gloom of Time's death-haunted caves?

202

Those that are chosen by Thy loving Grace

Are safe, although they may not seek Thy shade;

For, Mother, then it's Thy own sweet caress

That wakes for them and is on guard instead.

203

Thou simply smilest, Mother, when we say,

"We love Thee, Mother, as our all-in-all",

And yet think too much of ourselves all day

And wander far towards the lures that call.

204

Gods say, Thou art high majesty serene,

And titans trembling call Thee wrath aflame; .

But as a smile eternal we have seen

Thee, Mother Sweet, so let that be Thy name.

205

We've found Thy bee-hive, Mother, richly stored

With heaven's nectar rare and pure like fire;

We'll simply open, — for Thy honey is poured

In ceaseless streams to quench our thirst's desire.

206

The key is with Thy Grace and not with me

To open for my soul the moon-white gate

That brings one face to face with the mystery

Of Thy maternal Love immaculate.

207

Oh! the exhilaration of the pull

The soul sunk in abysmal depth doth feel

When it is drawn up towards Thy wonderful

Magnetic glow of Love on the sun-crowned hill.

208

When pride to pieces breaks beneath Thy feet,

And looks up prayerful glad humility,

Thy smile bequeaths to the soul of nature sweet

The greatness true of Thy divinity.

209

So sweet and loving is Thy call of Grace

That even devils can't resist it long;

No wonder then if souls should run a race

To be the first to hail Thy smile with song.

210

When I call myself, O Mother, strange to say,

It's Thou who answers, I am sure it's Thou:

Then is my "I" a mere illusion's play,

And Thou my self, my soul, my being true?

211

It is but natural, O Sublimest Height,

That as our Mother Thou shouldst shelter us

For Thy love and grace are as great as Thy might

And Thy smile inviting and solicitous.

212

Yes, Mother, 'tis the easiest way Thou hast shown,

The way of life divine; yet if there be

Too many stumblings, the fault is but our own;

For we leave Thy guiding finger wantonly.

213

Give us, Good Mother, one thing first of all,

The great and noble thing, true gratefulness;

We lack it most; our nature is too small

And mean to recognise Thy bounteous Grace.

214

When clouds come creeping in and shroud our sight,

Thy lunar smile, our soul's delight we lose:

What should we then do, Mother, but to invite

Thy gracious breeze to clear the dark-faced ruse?

215

How through experiences dark and bright,

Through thick and thin, through pleasure and through pain,

Thou leadest on with patience infinite

My crudeness to perfection's pure domain.

2l6

A beggar though, my friend, I'd like to give

Thee something more than worthy of true love;

There stands She, offering Herself, receive

The Mother, source divine of all dreamt of.

217

Without Thee, Mother, life's as good as hell;

For then there is no love, no joy, no peace,

No purity, no grace, but one wild swell

Of hungry fires and thirsty ruthlessness.

218

Thou art my darling, Mother, O Love, O Sweet,

Who singest ever seated in my heart;

And ours is such a happiness complete,

That never for a moment shall we part.

219

With Thee as my companion day and night

There's such a joy, Sweet Mother, in the air,

That I must either think that heavens bright

Are all but joy-deserted or are here.

220

Thou art the Smile eternal, human-swayed,

O Mother, Sweet Divinity in bloom;

How can, then, dare to stay in Thy moon-white shade

A trace of sorrow and its tyrant gloom?

221

If there be anyone who is with Thee

And yet betakes oneself to thankless cavil,

Then surely in that case there ought to be

Some ugly interference of the devil.

222

Oh! what a blessedness it is to know

That light and love and joy away from Thee

Exist not; Mother! a curse it is to go

In search of them where reigns dark tyranny.

223

I thought I would imprison Thee in my heart,

0 Boundless Love, all-beautiful and sweet;

But when Thou earnest in, no more to part,

1 found myself instead bound to Thy feet.

224

When first Thou earnest in my heart to play,

Sweet Mother, Thou wast but a little flame

Of Love; but then Thou grewest day by day,

And now o'er all my being Thou layest Thy claim!

225

Supremely sweet as Thou art, Mother Divine,

Thy sweetness is increasing day by day:

May be, our life which is too bitter-brine

Needs more of it, or that's Thy natural way.

226

Thine is the highest of all treasures high

That ever gods possessed and men dreamt of,

And freely givest thou to wants that vie

To be fulfilled by Thy all-bounteous love.

227

I'll steal Thy sweetness, Mother, always steal

For it's not guarded in a closed recess,

And if I'm caught I have then but to deal

With Thy benignant smile of tenderness.

228

I have a little Mother soft and sweet;

How all day long Her music fills my heart!

So happy are we both, so closely knit

That from the clasp of love we'll never part.

229

Thou art worlds' guardian angel, Tenderest One!

Who hast disdained God's highest heaven, and

Come down to us in Death's dominion,

Grace-bound to our sorrow, freeing us with Love's hand.

230

I never loved Thee, Mother, so much as

When leanest Thou, all gentleness and grace,

To take upon Thyself with solicitude

Our thankless grief's, and grant us joy and Good.

231

Which heart will melt not in warm grateful tears,

Kind Mother! when it wakes to the great fact

That Thy sweetest grace is with us midst all fears

And never fails us failing, peril-wrecked?

232

How eagerly, Sweet Mother, dost Thou seek

For what we always like to get rid of, —

Our glooms and tears, — or dost Thou know the trick

That turns them into moons and pearls of love?

233

Sweet Mother! teach my infant love the truth

That all that comes from Thee is the highest good;

The hardest blows are the tenderest gifts of Ruth

That comes at times masked as Thy Kali-mood.

234

Impurities of ages roughly rise

And drown me in a storm of dark desire;

0 flaming life-boat! answering to my cries,

1 hail Thee, Mother, Love's immaculate fire.

235

Let love in me become a living force

Of service dedicated to Thy will;

Let me but seek Thee, Mother, sweetest source

Of all divinest things, gods dream of still.

236

Let nothing in me turn away from Thee,

Nor bar my being's consecrated ways;

But join in loving worship willingly,

And thus be worthy of Thy realm of rays.

237

'Tis sad that we so often turn away

From Thee, the very being of love and bliss,

And seeking vainly shadowy pleasures stray

Into a hell of horrors, the dark abyss!

238

When we are blinded by the murky mist

Of vile desire that draws us but to doom,

Out-spread Thy wings of love, do not desist,

And fold them round us, Mother, bird of bloom.

239

Night is unwilling yet to part from me,

And clouds like solid shadows overhang;

Mother! awake Thy sun-fire graciously,

The dawn of which the Vedic sages sang.

240

The secret of the joy of life I've found,

And Mother! 'tis to live in Thee alone;

But difficult it is for the spirit bound

To earth, and to abysses ever prone!

241

'Tis only if Thy condescending grace

Upholds our souls in its strong arms of love

That we can hope to come to the close embrace

Of everlasting joy that reigns above.

242

I think the famed philosopher's stone is

A dreamful myth; unless it truly be

The crystal beauty of Thy feet I kiss,

Its touch into a god transforming me.

243

Like a lily on a stir less moon-lit night

O let my heart remain entranced in Thee;

A stainless flower of beauty crystal-white,

My prayer fulfilled, Thy grace abloom in me!

244

A steadfast mind, a faithful loving heart,

A willing ever-ready hand to serve, —

Let me have these alone as life's true part,

Which for Thee, Mother, I would fain reserve.

245

There is but one way to be happy here

In a world of misery and vengeful strife,

And 'tis with faithful ardour to adhere

To the Mother's feet, refuge and hope of life.

246

Who serves Thee, Mother, serves himself in fact;

For when a heart of love spontaneously

Translates itself into an offered act,

Enrapt in bliss it meets Eternity.

247

How much I am indebted to Thee, Mother!

No one can say; but one thing I do know,

A million births, one following the other,

Can free me not from what to Thee I owe.

248

A life of service wholly dedicated

To the pleasure of Thy Truth-born will benign,

Is the only thing that I can love-dictated

Lay at Thy feet of beauty crystalline.

249

No thought of self, no thought of me and mine

Shall be allowed to stain the purity

Of loving consecration, Mother Divine!

That day by day shall bring me nearer Thee.

250

No movement shall have sanction to survive

Unless it be truth's rhythm with but one aim

Of bringing up my yearning being to live

In light and love and the music of Thy name.

251

To be at Thy feet is to be on the crest

Of the highest of heavens of love and of light;

Where blossoms of beauty and bliss crown the guest,

No longer a victim of Death and the Night.

252

With Thee as the guiding spirit smiling sweetly

Within our heart of heart, whatever we do

Becomes a source of joy, our own completely,

Refreshing all our being with nectars new.

253

One knows not to what depths of dire distress

Our darkness-driven ego-elf may lead,

Once we have turned away from Thy sweet face,

O most benignant Mother! the Friend we need.

254

Instal Thyself, Sweet Mother, in my heart,

Though it be but a haunt of darkness drear;

For 'tis Thy Presence bright that can impart

A glow auspicious to its form of fear.

255

To worship Thee within is the one bliss

Which once experienced no one will forego;

O Mother! grant that I may never miss

Thy Presence perfect, love divine aglow.

256

I've found, 'tis silly not to call Thee in

When darkness gathers and the heart turns foul;

Oh! who can bring us light and make us clean

Save Thee, most gracious Mother, Soul of soul?

257

Sure I am dark as cloud; but Mother! yet

Bless me with Thy sun-fingers golden white,

That a miracle may soon transform my state

Of gloom into a glory of hues all bright.

258

Attached to a thousand things I did not know

What love was in its true divinity,

Till by a stroke of Grace descending low,

In swoon I woke to find it facing me.

259

Love knows what thought but seeks in dreams, that's why

In speechless silence it rejoices most:

O love incarnate, Mother, vivify

Thy light within my soul of prayer, Thy host.

260

Know ye that nowhere you will find the thing

You need so much — the freedom of the. soul

From falsehoods fathomless, unless you cling

To nothing but the Mother's feet, world's goal.

26l

A tragedy is human life unless

It gives up its time-beaten murky ways,

And seeks Thy feet, Sweet Mother, come to bless

The bleeding world with balmy golden days.

262

I long to be, Sweet Mother! one of those

Who've come to birth to love and live for Thee,

And worship Thee with their heart's morning rose

Placed at Thy feet in joy's infinity.

263

Long years of life without the birth of love

Are nothing more than living death prolonged;

O Grace Divine! grant but a moment of

Thy love supreme, with endless sweetness thronged.

264

A glorious world of God's perfection wrought; —

Such is Her vision vast and wonderful:

Who '11 throw themselves in the Mother's melting-pot,

And rise like gods to conquer Death and rule?