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TO BOBBY
ON HIS SCORING THE GREATER PART OF THE POINTS THAT BROUGHT VICTORY IN A MATCH WHERE HE WAS THE YOUNGEST PLAYER
FRESH and feathery fronds lifted by the palm.
Flags that flutter ; and the cool
breeze blowing along
Gay music. All the western sky is calm
With hint of day-wane. Calm the faces strong
Of marching youth—white shorts and vest, red sash,
Bare legs and arms : the music they obey
Sways to and fro their limbs ; and now they dash
To form some dozen pyramids that stay
For one still minute—and render back the line
Of marching youths who exit as they came.
And then two capta
Resource name: /E-Library/Disciples/Arjava/English/Poems By Arjava/Between Two Strokes Of Midnight .htm
BETWEEN TWO STROKES OF MIDNIGHT
THE flower of silence opens in the sky ;
A moon enealmed, a poised and frozen song,
Has gained the zenith where the clouds go by
Un convoyed by the shadow-shape of wrong.
Half of twelve to usher midnight's chiming ;
Three yoked with three to harbinger new day ;
Between, un time fast silences are climbing
To the hilltop glint where golden Truth Beams play.
Emptied of time, this rift between two beats
Of the hammer, fate, upon mortality,—
This threshing-floor whereon our being meets
The living One who bears us, henceforth, free.
July 28, 1934.
Resource name: /E-Library/Disciples/Arjava/English/Poems By Arjava/To The Four Names Of The Mother Divine.htm
TO THE FOUR NAMES OF
THE MOTHER DIVINE
Maheshwari
NOR mote nor world may swerve beyond Thy law,
O Veiled One : but starry incense bore
Rumour of Thee from midnight's ancient hill—
" Tranquil insistence with compassionate will."
Mahasaraswati
Far-avenued between the day and night
Thy lotus breathes perfection from its heart,
Crowning our shadow-dream with crystal light,
Moulding Time's clay to ever-living Art.
Mahakali
Men of the noon-tide, careless of earthly norm,
Shall trace Thy fire-dance down the ways of storm,
Mocking the ramparts of the world's deceit,
Casting their death beneath Thy
AT THE CLOSE OF NIGHT
WHITE with starry shine
The air
beneath the. sky,
Windless and still,.
Awaits what summoning voice
From caves of earth,
From furthest verges of the sea
Where the silken hangings of dawn
Cover the mystic gate through which the Sun shall pass ?
The gazelles of darkness run swift towards the West;
Their shadowy feet flicker over ground bright with dew ;
And a little wind of the morning lifts the leaves and fronds of the forest.
November 8, 1936.
Page-232
DERIVATION
GOOD-BYE to the beechen girdles,
Then slantwise up the-hill—
And a shimmering silence curdles
To notes that spill
Out from a feathered mote
Or a spark
Of the unseen joy, from the throat
Of light-enfettered lark.
Leaving the past to kindle
Springlight, Persephone
Ended winter's dwindle
In Sicily ;
And out of Pluto's tomb
Engendered
For deathless Love a bloom
—Love stays, though flowers are rendered.
How should one flowing stream-head
Reck neither joy nor pain
Unless heaven's gift were dream-led
To light again ?
High on the hillside welling
From sad earth,
—Pure mirror, sk
Resource name: /E-Library/Disciples/Arjava/English/Poems By Arjava/Frail Sky That Yearns For Bliss.htm
FRAIL SKY THAT YEARNS FOR BLISS
STARS are fading
one by one,
yet within
there is a first dim twilight
from a spirit-sun.
In that pearl-grey gloaming
stern shadows disappear ;
still-half-whispered light is doming
graith and gear.
Cover me with silence,
frail sky that yearns for bliss,
send seeing born of hunger
for the silver kiss
from the lotus dawning
of yet-to-be sunrise
and for the amber lightening
as day-truth fills the eyes.
October 25, 1938.
Page-329
THE RHYTHM OF SILENCE
THE moon that metes the dark time
With
hush full hours
And drowns in a tide of shimmering peace
The tallest to
wars,
Sweeps with swift surge of loveliness
Far
other
lands ;
And no feet heavy with sorrow press
Those dread less
sands.
Sentinel trees are fringing
A far-off
shore—
O stillness of the boughs that trace
On a mossy
floor
An ageless pattern of white moon-rays
That shift and
cross,
A glyph of beauty and of love-filled days
Taintless, with
no dross.
April 17, 1935.
Page-118
BEAUTY
OUT of the opening blossom
Spirit
flame
Brandish thy fiery arrow,
Innerly aim.
Bent be the bow with thy straining
Taut the string :
Heartward the arrowy speedings
Blithely
sing.
Enter the innermost chamber,
O fire
born dart,
Till thy rhythming love and thy beauty
Thrill through
the heart.
April 16, 1936.
Page-184
Resource name: /E-Library/Disciples/Arjava/English/Poems By Arjava/The Rim Of The Fountain Of Time.htm
THE RIM OF THE FOUNTAIN OF TIME
WHITE as the foam of the fountain
The bowl of milk-white jade
Circled the plashing water
That had fled from haunts of shade.
Winter lies deep in the earth-womb,
Spring is the leaping up,
High is the summery plume-sway :
Bideth the dregs of the cup.
Night had the shadowy cavern,
Dawn knew the joy of the spray,
Noon sate on summits of grandeur :
What of the ending of day ?
Ever White Silence runneth,
Circling our flicker of speech ;
Not there can come hues of waning,
Nor any birth-cry reach.
THE GREY NESS AND THE QUIET
A GREEN-GRAY twilit hush in the ageless forest,
After the
immense canopy of boughs
Has strained all glare and vivid colours from the sunlight.
Plinths of tree and stems of giant creeper rise up
from the floor of
dimness.
To the full height of these grey spaces
In a cathedral calm.
A plashy thud of some hard-rinded fruit
Ripples momently the tapestries of hush.
The grey ness and the quiet are over all, a many-
fathomed covering of
ocean mystery.
That turbulence of harsh atomic being,
Those hard and garish colours of the upper day
Are no more ;
An