EIGHT God in Power of Becoming A VERY important step has been reached, a decisive statement of its metaphysical and psychological synthesis has been added to the development of the Gita's gospel of spiritual liberation and divine works. The Godhead has been revealed in thought to Arjuna; he has been made visible to the mind's search and the heart's seeing as the supreme and universal Being, the supernal and universal Person, the inward-dwelling Master of our existence for whom man's knowledge, will and adoration were seeking through the mists of the Ignorance. There remains only the vision of the multiple Virat Purusha to complete the revelation on one more o

PART II THE SUPREME SECRET THIRTEEN The Field and its Knower* THE Gita in its last six chapters, in order to found on a clear and complete knowledge the way of the soul's rising out of the lower into the divine nature, restates in another form the enlightenment the Teacher has already imparted to Arjuna. Essentially it is the same knowledge, but details and relations are now made prominent and assigned their entire significance, thoughts and truths brought out in their full value that were alluded to only in passing or generally stated in the light of another purpose. Thus in the first six chapters the knowledge necessary for the distinction between

The Rakshasas (The Rakshasa the violent kinetic Ego, establishes his claim to mastery of the world replacing the animal Soul, – to be followed by controlled and intellectualised but unregenerated Ego, the Asura. Each such type and level of consciousness sees the Divine in its own image and its level in Nature is sustained by a differing form of the World-Mother.) “Glory and greatness and the joy of life, Strength, pride, victorious force, whatever man Desires, whatever the wild beast enjoys, Bodies of women and the lives of men – I claim to be my kingdom. I have force My title to substantiate, I seek, No crown unearned, no lo

Despair on the Staircase Mute stands she, lonely on the topmost stair, An image of magnificent despair; The grandeur of a sorrowful surmise Wakes in the largeness of her glorious eyes. In her beauty’s dumb significant pose I find, The tragedy of her mysterious mind. Yet is she stately, grandiose, full of grace. A musing mask is her immobile face. Her tail is up like an unconquered flag, Its dignity knows not the right to wag. An animal creature wonderfully human, A charm and miracle of fur-footed Brahman, Whether she is spirit, woman or a cat, Is now the problem I am wondering at. Surreali

Hell and Heaven In the silence of the night-time,             In the grey and formless eve When the thought is plagued with loveless             Memories that it cannot leave, When the dawn makes sudden beauty             Of a peevish clouded sky, And the rain is sobbing slowly             And the wind makes weird reply, Always comes her face before me             And her voice is in my ear, Beautiful and sad and cruel             With the azure eyes austere. Cloudy figure once so luminous             With the light and life within When the soul came rippling outwards             And the red

The Rishi (King Manu in the former ages of the world, when the Arctic continent still  subsisted, seeks knowledge from the Rishi of the Pole who after long baffling him with conflicting side-lights of the knowledge, reveals to him what it chiefly concerns man to know.) MANU Rishi who trance-held on the mountains old Art slumbering, void Of sense or motion, for in the spirit's hold Of unalloyed Immortal bliss thou dreamst protected! Deep Let my voice glide Into thy dumb retreat and break that sleep Abysmal. Hear! The frozen snows that heap thy giant bed Ice-cold and clear, The chill and desert heavens above thee spread Vast, austere, Are not so sharp

Perigune Prologuises Cool may you find the youngling grass, my herd, Cool with delicious dew, while I here dream And listen to the sweet and garrulous bird That matches its cool note with Thea’s stream. Boon Zephyr now with waist ungirdled runs, And you, O luminous nurslings, wider blow, O nurslings of light rain and vernal suns, When bounteous winds about the garden go. Apt to my soul art thou, blithe honeyed moon, O lovely mother of the rose-red June. Zephyr that all things soothes, enhances all, Dwells with thee softly, the near cuckoo drawn To farther groves with sweet inviting call And dewy buds upon the blossoming lawn. But ah, today some hap

-45_A God's Labour.htm SHORT POEMS (1930 - 1950) God’s Labour I have gathered my dreams in a silver air Between the gold and the blue And wrapped them softly and left them there, My jewelled dreams of you. I had hoped to build a rainbow bridge Marrying the soil to the sky And sow in this dancing planet midge The moods of infinity. But too bright were our heavens, too far away, Too frail their ethereal stuff; Too splendid and sudden our light could not stay; The roots were not deep enough. He who would bring the heavens here Must descend himself into clay And the burden of earthly nature bear And tread the dolorous way. C

The Island Grave OceaOcean is there and evening; the slow moan Of the blue waves that like a shaken robe Two heard together once, one hears alone. Now gliding white and hushed towards our globe Keen January with cold eyes and clear And snowdrops pendent in each frosty lobe Ushers the firstborn of the radiant year. Haply his feet that grind the breaking mould, May brush the dead grass on thy secret bier, Haply his joyless fingers wan and cold Caress the ruined masses of thy hair, Pale child of winter, dead ere youth was old. Art thou so desolate in that bitter air That even his breath feels warm upon thy face? Ah,

SHORT POEMS 1895-1908 Invitation With wind and the weather beating round me Up to the hill and the moorland I go. Who will come with me? Who will climb with me? Wade through the brook and tramp through the snow? Not in the petty circle of cities Cramped by your doors and your walls I dwell; Over me God is blue in the welkin, Against me the wind and the storm rebel. I sport with solitude here in my regions, Of misadventure have made me a friend. Who would live largely? Who would live freely? Here to the wind-swept uplands ascend. I am the lord of tempest and mountain, I am the Spirit of freedom and pride