To the Disciples of Mother and Sri Aurobindo in Russia Homage to the Motherland O Russia, Motherland, the gods look down And smile upon your centuries of toil That paved the way for the great awakening To the Force that lay asleep within your soil And in yourselves, mystic daughters and sons Who in the Hour of God have heard the call. O sacred land of suffering and pain Now the oppressor gone you shall install Within your vast and offered heart the fire, The icon of the Lord whose voice is heard In soul and soul waking to the Light That breaks from Supermind, transforming Word Of truth come down by the dual sacrif

A Prayer to the Divine Mother 8.8.01 Where among the lilies may be found A purity and fragrance matching Hers? All earth's scented sweetnesses press round Her feet and all the god-discoverers Drawn as human magnets to Her force, Gaze in rapturous wonderment to see The Divine in human form, fount and source Of man's desire for immortality. What perfect rose would not its fragrance give Or petals to adorn her robe of light And in that death of offering to live An endless moment longer in her sight. All our flower-offerings now pale Before the gifts of those who gave their soul,

All is Light and Grace Seeking the path to a deeper consciousness, Moving towards unplumbed infinities, Gathering up the threads we held so dear To front a world of greater destinies Where mind is stilled the carrier word to hear And the shell of ego cracked, its sureties Laid bare to a flame that kindles falsehood's bier As the soul responds to a first divine caress. Slowly now we wake to calm within And feel encompassing aspiring earth A guidance prompting us to new begin The quest for which our souls accepted birth, Descending into form and forgetfulness To wake to a known but strangely alien face As on the golden inner door

Autumn Song For some it is the sorrowing time of year When autumn's chill descends upon the leaves But I with grace surrounding have no fear, Day's brevity is brief, the night deceives, For hid within its breast the light prepares. All is God, the blazing of the trees His flaming pageantry, the frosted air's His breath and winter's grandeur oversees The dormant bud that swells to meet the Spring. Our life in flux and we desiring peace To Him our human faults and failures bring, From Falsehood's grip confining seek release.

Surrender and the Joyous Sacrifice In my small and limited room of mind I could not understand but only sense As when the heart grows wide embracing all, The Presence at whose feet I humbly knelt. She seemed a mother speaking to Her child In gentle tones of such transcendent things, Of music's source and soul's awakening And more, but I was captive of Her smile And the mind failed and only God was there. And then She briefly loosed the sacred fire That entered in the heart's profound recess, Never to be quenched by darkling force, A flame that rose and burned within my breast An entire conflagration of the being,

The Days Grow Each More Beautiful When I least suspecting, knotted and tight, Vexed by the deep frustrations of my toil, Release my hands from the wheel and see the bright And blue-green earth, the life-force in her soil Bring forth from Hyacinth's store such fragrant dreams Or the cupped Magnolia's splendid chalice-bloom, I know my life is other than it seems And for a moment leave the little room Of self and walk in fields of the timeless ray. Round our lives the vernal choirs sing Waking our souls to the anthem of the way To find within ourselves eternal spring. A light descends in us from heights above And the

And I Will Offer Flowers - To Mother - May 3, 2001 And I will offer flowers from the garden of my soul, Blooms of fragrant tenderness, thy radiance to extol, Creations from the occult store of earth's vast treasury Light-filled forms that move the heart to deep humility, Incense-laden cups of gold and nectar-bearing bells And violets of modesty from purple shaded dells, Majestic-scented peonies, the gilded iris' hues, The crimson rose of sacrifice that all thy love imbues. I'll gather the aromatic leaves of angelonia And adoration's blossoms from the tree of cordia. The gentleness of lathyrus, the nodding columbine, The boldness of celosia, th

Emergence of the Soul Even in my youth's most carefree hours Counsel I sought among the realized few Drawn to their inner strength and hidden powers Deeply I drank at their wisdom's fount and drew The sustenance of spirit to survive The arduous emergence of the soul, And its descent into the earthly life And the promise of high and hidden goal. But Desire was too much with me, the "I" That wraps the world into its packaged view, Ego that swallows all God's mystery And thinks itself the knower of the true. As one held under water I strove to rise Locked in the grip of a fierce and downward force, And struggled with the surfa

Bearer of Supreme Delight Borne on a current of time's events, Hurried from scene to moving scene , The pace of days all calm resents And contemplation's inward mien. This multicoloured chain of Fate Binds our feet to trodden ways Imposing on the frail and great The poverty of mortal days. Not far beyond yet hid from sight God within the human grows, Bearer of supreme delight, Consciousness that sees and knows The future's face our minds deny Our purpose here to sanctify.

To Mary Helen Soul in Sleep I watch you sleep at peace in troubled days, Sleep of the Innocent who bear the wounds The world inflicts with quiet dignity. Floating through dreams as on buoyant seas, Unteared your face, unstained its radiance, Aglow, attuned to finer harmonies, Those mysteries beyond our sight and sense, And on your brow divine tranquillity. Still I watch unknowing where you perchance Do soar, but on your beauty ever I glance And know your secret soul with God communes Illumining my life with lambent rays. I shall gather in sheaves your acts of tenderness For I have reaped far more than I have sown Your simplest gifts