Mantra, The Transforming Word Late have I found in the storm-tossed mind No refuge from the swell of adverse seas, In silence wait the centred flame to find That from this undertow shall bring release. Yet in the hallowed space at the body's core She lit a flame no darkness dare deny And in my heart a long remembered shore And sanctuary where all my faults shall die. Now the titanic task to sail towards light And throw the mental baggage overboard, Hold the grail in the soul's unerring sight Admit the Grace and grasp the lever-word.

Boyhood Carnival Come on in and see a sight You'll never see again my man A giantess as black as night With enormous feet, an African. We entered in the darkened tent And suddenly my heart was filled With pain and all my being rent By this tragedy of life distilled. From her purple swollen lips No murmur broke, no cry of rage, Immured within those massive hips She sat in her flesh as in a cage And all the sorrow of the earth Lay in the darkness of those eyes And all the pain of grotesque birth And life that's d

Casting Out Demons The darker regions with their craftiness Disturbing slumber and the spirit's flight To subtler planes above our earthly stress, Come calling in the darkest heart of night When the Guard sleeps briefly at the gate of the inner door, Admitting unholy influences within, Once guests of desires that formed in times before, The unconscious days of gross indiscipline. The captain of this forward moving ship Must cast o'erboard these pirateers of soul, To the demon forces pressing give the slip And sail in light and splendour towards the goal.

In the Silent Fields of Mind Aug. 25, 1999 Now in the calm and silent fields of mind Joy is harvested by thankful hands And the seasons of our aspirations find The imprint and the seal of Mother's touch; By the still lake reflecting on life's events As the years of our seeking pass slowly in pensive mood, A smile wells up from deep within the soul To blossom on a branch of gratitude. So many hours spent at the treadle of time Weaving the wondrous patterns of the world, While sole within the godhead's paradi

The Avatar - Sri Aurobindo 11.2.99 He blesses with his feet our wayward dust, Wide and welcoming are his silent arms And the depths of his endless grace unfathomable. Speaking at once as Poet Divine and Supreme He calls as with a haunting silver flute Sounding through the ignorance of our night, Its liquid notes alluring the wakening soul To heights still undiscovered, vistas new And grandeurs of a paradisal world Descending to the plane of human sight. He calls our souls to climb, our mortal ears To hear, our hearts to

Sonnet for the New Millennium Deep run the roots of insincerity Nurtured by greed and fed by insatiable lust For power and the dominance of things. In the corridors of infamy there ply The husks of men whose souls have turned to dust, Where Falsehood crowns himself the king of kings And the Lord of Darkness walks triumphantly by As humanity sinks in spiritual poverty. While the decadent world in sin and error lies The sages weep and the better angels cry For the spirit of man and all that suffers and dies. Yet shall the Force redeem our destiny Descendi

Force Descending 11/26/99 A new elegance, voice of the enlightened One To speak to the warring instincts of mental man Has come. A love that stills the anger and the pain Of separate self in an all-encompassing embrace, A gesture of compassionate divinity Upon our fractured laws, our hobbled rules Applied with an agonizing sweetness' force To the body of the human family, That there might wake a fierce unquenchable thirst For progress and the truth of hidden soul To light the darkness of our blinded way. A few have seen the sole

Once a Door is Opened December 18, 1999 Once a door is opened on the dark And entities and presences are hailed As friends and welcome bedfellows we part From the seal of God’s protection for we’ve failed To keep our sacred contract with the light. Preferring the path of sensual act and thrills We turn to the strong and beckoning arms of night And the siren voice that lures and sweetly kills. Hard will it be to close again that door Against the forces of the Prince of Dust A castle breached has not the strength before Arrows of desire and battering rams of lust That pene

Eternal Gratitude 1999 Eternal gratitude the carrier word Of seeking earth-born conscious souls awake Amid destruction, ruin, death, and din Of pulsing humanity surging beyond its bounds, Grasping and groping to hold ephemeral toys, Lost on the highways amid the commerce of life, While faintly heard though hardly few respond, The spirit whispers softly in our hearts, "We who are called his warrior souls must be."

The Ashram - First Visit August 1999 Imagery of the landscapes of early youth Impinge on the inner eye those memories More potent than dream, more tranquil than settled sleep, As I supine, culling from clouds through trees Beauteous visions as make the angels weep. In a penumbra of the awakening soul Unknowing I bowed in church to the mother of all, Mechanically fulfilling life's programmed play Then rescinding my role when at last was heard