-046_·Separation Separation   Love, long ago we two were one... What was it made You speak that prayer, And give me this dark cross, alone? — The cross which now it is You who bear.   They say You wished to see your joy — Had we for that to live apart? Had You to shape of clay a toy, Before You could enjoy my heart?   Because, remembering not your mirth, I cry over all my hurt and pain, Must You now push through clay and earth, Before we can be one again? Page-44

Open Your Gates   Open Your gates of eternal peace, Compassion divine; Let the tired soul now find release Within Your shrine.   Aeons of dark have fallen upon it, Burden of night; Time has snatched a wing and torn it, Dust dimmed its sight.   Earth's layers have crusted around its breath, Choked up its life: Pale ghosts of pain, hauntings of death, Agony, strife...   O open the prison-bars, set free The yearning flame; Open the doors of eternity In Your Love's Name. Page-127

Paradox   A moon upon the heart of darkness, A light upon the sea,  My little pride shows all its sparkling, And You keep showing me.   Were You the moon upon my darkness, The light upon my sin, I'd understand the magic marking, Of spells which write us kin.   But You are smooth with dark awareness, And I, moon-like, a stain; And your still heart can wait and carry The beating of my pain.   And You, wide sea, are dark With drinking The sin of stream on stream; Among your tossed-up, floating trinkets, My light stands like a dream.   I flaunt our kinship over sky-earth, My pride against your peace, Till ga

Perspective   Beyond the unperspected horizons is nothing; Don't lie still, unsuspecting, dear; Sit up or twist yourself into a posture to picture the world straight; Let the nerves storm, the bones grate, the thought-curves gripe awry, the wrench-twirls cry and torture, — Till the whirl of blood tincture moods aright; give themes their proper shade and colour, discover all proportions — proper, unselfish, right-toned. They say, man becomes centre and measure of all his gaugings, and self-centred, self-cinctured, self-caged, ventures to encounter Sun-Truth — Sit up, though the limbs ache and hiss their agony; sit up

The Only Way   Do not cross the ancient bridgeway, Lest your pale feet bleed; So sharp, so fine the razor's edging, White purity we need. There's but one way to make the journey, Without the abysmal slide; Let Grace Herself become the crossing, And Love Divine your guide.   Nor venture lone the ancient stairway To reach that world of gold; These rough steps rise to dizzy spaces, Your feet will lose their hold. No man may scale this giddy skyway, Alone and pure of pride; Let Grace Herself become the climbing, And Love Divine your guide. Page-122

Enchanter   Praised be Thou who touchest me With Thy wand of ecstasy: When the seven meanings pass Through the lucencies of glass, Twining to a rod of white Drawn unto Thy Sun-delight; When the tranced moon-waters roll, In the caverns of the soul, Deep reverberations stored Of the laughter of the Lord; When the stars of destiny Break their Karmic seals and free In the being's living breath Secrecies of life and death, Placing in my hands the key Of Thy folded mystery; — Sweet Enchanter, round me close Magic circlets of Thy Rose. Page-65

Night and Unknowing   Night and unknowing: first, the ignorance with its trooping, tripping joys, small joys that gleam a promise of bliss and perish, and much ignorant suffering — pain without meaning, pain fruitless, the pain of matter, — futility. ... And then frustration and unknowing yet meaninged pain, lamentations and a quiet mourning of the spirit for things unrealised, pain of bewilderment, then a pain of promise, but deeper yet for the unconsciousness of spirit, its faint lights and rights, its sleep, its numbness; dark sorrow in the night, night out in the forest, with snake-bite and prowling murder and fear tha

Maya   Your puzzles and pretences Escape my new-learnt skill; How many more wild senses Must I unravel still?   O stop this hectic spreeing, And give to me the bliss Of your most pure white being,  — O Love, my Love, just this. Page-63

Our Choice   When the words of Knowledge come, We stuff our ears with jazz and pop, And listen to guitar and drum; With folly's cotton-wool we stop The songs within us, and rejoice Over our modern uncouth choice.   And often when a seer deep Comes by some wisdom to impart, We choke the air with banter cheap, And suffocate the waiting heart; And think how very cleverly We've shut out immortality.   This is the way our world goes round, Full speed in giddy pomp and show; Our ignorance remains profound, While we believe and boast we know. God knows! we choose the deepest hole, To break our neck or wreck our soul.

The Ordinance   Your hands once wrote their potent will Upon my brow of trance; The fire-script burns and glimmers still, A dire ordinance.   It bids me to explore the night, (For the day's tasks are done), Go through the rock-doors and ignite Down there the Fire, the Sun.   But I have neither strength nor skill, And my frail eyes cannot see. Are You then there? is it Your will? Where will I find the key?   Will night's black scroll be ever unfurled? The music of the Word, The meaning of the hidden world Within us ever be heard? Page-139