Company of the Holy Satsang, where is your saving breath, The harmony we once found there In a world of pain and untimely death. Where now the promised paradise Of all Her difficult travail And the Lord's unending sacrifice?

My Soul in Morning From what intense alembic have I drunk Inconscience, passing through the seas of birth, That still my soul upon the bars of time Must wait, nor vainly press the tides of night But cling to truth while the ages wash beneath me, Surging, foaming, dissolve and reappear Sustained by deity, upborne in change, Moving in the moments conscious flow Though hardly of the saving touch aware, To infant-like receive and patient, pray Till an eye shall open and the being breathe And the cloth be lifted in the final hour.

Self Awakening No touch or strain is heard Of those high notes of song Quivering in night's lament, In an age gone wrong. Comes there no voice befriending Stars whose patient reign Have lost in dim obscurity Of clouds their high domain? Faint footfalls come on earth-dust As one who scatters seeds To winds of fairness beckoning Days of sunlit deeds. Recall forgotten journeys And threads of former lives, Awake to stellar memories The Self that now arrives.

Journey of the Soul Unhurried through the voiceless world I fly Blazing a pathway through the eye of space, Peering through endless corridors I ply, Seeking the place where the mystic footsteps pace. The grey implacable edifice of mind Its temple destined to decay in dust, It's thought-streams pulled through vortices half- blind By a force unerring in its force-filled thrust. Interminable though they be our paths still wind Towards Truth and Light, the core of godhead's plan, The blue of Krishna born for heaven's kind From the animal evolve the Superman.

Ascent from Darkness      1960's And in that silence desolate I call with silent voice. Soul parched though waters beckoning No drop to ease the pain Of separateness; the ache, dry-racked On a wheel of nothingness. Spinning down through levels cutting Subcutaneous layers of mind, A pauper's ransom worthy not Of rescue to a higher kind. We enter with a cry to birth And gestation is borne in pain, We wake in morning youth imbued By evening infirm again. These days that grow with roots in hell

Singer's Prayer II.htm Singer's Prayer - 2 A present from one who counseled me "The Original", she said, "It has force." I placed the 'blessing packet' near The Book my being so revered, For all His love therein was placed, The Poem of the Entry into Light. The Mantra sounding the end of night. Let now the soul Thou knowest Lord Break forth from bonds and soar to Thee, Cast the dreams of night aside Cull the clouds from inner sky, Part the waves of passion foaming Break the crystal glass of mind. Give voice to the song that in me sleeps.

Child of Dawn, Awake Nor books nor words can now suffice To wrest from mind its dominance And throne in seat supreme the Real Whose Truth this wounded world could heal. O Poet, singing of flaming suns And flowers fading not by day Nor waters turning black by night On rapid wings draw near the light. That all may see and lastly find The strength to cast this life away That hides so deep the child of Dawn. In womb of night while breaks the morn.

One Waits and Watches        May 24, 1970 The residue of Karmic deeds Disturbs the flight towards the Name And fetters freedom’s soaring flame. While grains of sand in hour-glasses Drain the very face of Time, One waits and watches patiently The maze of endless patterns weaving Fate, the father of our bounden rule, And knows within that Flame shall flower The blaze of Aspiration’s seed. First published in Mother India – June 1971

Matrimandir Bending of steel as a branch with ripening fruit Arc ascending symbol of spirit's soar, Consciousness-force and integrity contained In the welded aspiration of that form. Two I may see yet one undeniably know Structure and self, man, cement and steel Evolve in day-stream fast arising from night

The Divine Shakti - June 11 Men and nations in their toil Prepare themselves upon earth's soil And the coiling aeons gladly bear The impress of Her Feet in prayer.