{"id":10674,"date":"2014-07-12T23:37:57","date_gmt":"2014-07-13T06:37:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/saa.santansoftwaresystems.com\/?p=10674"},"modified":"2015-05-13T12:35:20","modified_gmt":"2015-05-13T19:35:20","slug":"savitri-study-book-2-canto-6","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/savitri-study\/book-2-savitri-study\/savitri-study-book-2-canto-6","title":{"rendered":"Savitri-study-Book-2-Canto-6"},"content":{"rendered":"
\nIntroduction<\/a>   Notes<\/a>   Book 1<\/a>   Book II<\/a>   Book III<\/a>   Book IV<\/a>   
\nBook V<\/a>   Book VI<\/a>   Book VII<\/a>   Book VIII<\/a>   
\nBook IX<\/a>   Book X<\/a>   Book XI<\/a>   Book XII<\/a>
\n<\/br><\/br><\/div>\n
\n
\n

Book Two. The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds<\/p>\n

\nCanto I<\/a>    Canto II<\/a>    Canto III<\/a>    Canto IV<\/a>    
\nCanto V<\/a>
\n    Canto VI<\/a>    Canto VII<\/a>    Canto VIII<\/a>    
\nCanto IX<\/a>
\n    Canto X<\/a>    Canto XI<\/a>    Canto XII<\/a>    
\nCanto XIII<\/a>    Canto XIV<\/a>    
\nCanto XV<\/a>           \n<\/p>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n\n\n\n
 <\/td>\n\n
\n


\nBook
\nTwo: Canto VI<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe
\nKingdoms and Godheads of the Greater Life<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Summary<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEscaping from the
\nanarchic world of lower life, Aswapathy enters the realms of greater
\nlife. The world he first steps into is an ineffectual one where there
\nis but an intermittent will to live and no direction at all. He
\narrives at an indefinite tract where hope dares to be but is
\nuncertain in its tenure. Life is in a strange state; she dreams and
\nimagines but does not actually create yet. Beings are attracted to
\ntake birth into life but hold back on the verge. It is a world of
\nenchantment but there is neither base nor goal.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA greater creation
\nfollows. The will to life is manifested in a more substantial way.
\nThe inner Spirit impresses itself on the innumerable forms of life,
\nthere is a rhythm and beauty, a light and joy which however
\nincomplete\u2014bespeak a greater glory beyond.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis realm exerts
\ngreat influence upon the earth; the higher movements of life on earth
\nare inspired from here. Here is the pattern to which human seeking
\npoints. An endless possibility is seen here climbing high on a ladder
\nof dreams, from height to greater height. An energy is at work
\nperpetually, though its results are transient, putting out forms,
\nlarger and larger. She tries by every means to regain the Bliss she
\nhas lost in the course of her devolution from her source in the
\nsupreme Spirit, but she fails to attain it. Though thus unable to
\nachieve her ends, she strives on and on because she is impelled to do
\nso by the Will of the Creator active in her. Her mission is to
\nmanifest the Unmanifest, to express the Eternal in terms of Time. All
\npurposeful work is indeed done behind the veil. With her limited
\nmeans she strives, fails, attempts again; the will to live persists
\nand the myriad creation is projected.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe greater Life is
\nin pursuit of the Unseen, the Light beyond; she feels the Silence and
\nthe touch of the Grace from above. She is close to the heavens of the
\nGods, but also to the worlds of the demons. She hungers for
\nexpansion, for elevation, for perfection, and goes on creating to
\nthat end. She almost achieves her aim but falls short ultimately.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThus does Life exert
\nherself and create on every plane of existence irrespective of the
\nfailures she may meet in the course of her toil. In whatever
\ncondition, she is productive in her labour. Even when she is
\napparently immobile, she works beneath the surface.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the utmost
\nobscurity of Matter, she is still active. There is an Intelligence in
\nher that guides, a Will that goads through darkness, non-sentience
\nand inertia to an irresistible creative movement. Gradually sense,
\nmind, heart, soul come into formation and the world-procession
\nupborne by her assumes a meaning and direction. Life means to
\nrecapture her lost eternity.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife moves into
\naction for the delectation of her Purusha. By a hundred means she
\nseeks to hold his interest but he turns to his native state of
\nimmutable and formless peace. He is first asleep in her pro-founds;
\ngradually she awakens him to consciousness. The world she builds is a
\nnet in which he is held.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nShe is moved by a
\nKnowledge that works under the cloak of Ignorance; she has a might
\nthat does the incredible. On the lower levels her workings hide their
\npurpose, on the higher altitudes they are undisguised in their
\noperations. But still, her forms are only tokens; the Truth is not
\nyet concretely built; what is constructed is only a copy, a figure.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis is the
\ncharacter of the world that opens before Aswapathy. It is lit by a
\nTruth, but not the Truth manifest. There is a freer space and larger
\nair; life is lived from a deeper level, not from the surface. Life is
\nthe leading power, with mind and body following her trail. The
\ndimensions are cosmic and the self of each being embraces the
\nuniverse. Each is growing larger and taller in consciousness, but
\nthere are also many who imprison themselves in the attained
\ngreatness.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis world lies on
\nthe border of our mortal state. It inspires all great movements in
\nthe world below on earth and sets the patterns for formations below.
\nIn this world of greater Life there is an open confrontation between
\nthe true and the false, the good and the evil, and one is forced to
\nmake a choice between the hosts. The balance of values is other than
\nthat of earth: the inner determines the outer. All derives from the
\ntruth within. Sense is no barrier. The Mind, emotion and feeling of
\none are not divided from those of others, but commune and fuse into
\neach other. There is a live interchange. Still the ultimate oneness
\nis not there. A soul, if it so wishes, can shut itself from others.
\nThere is no real identity. The miracle of Inconscience has been
\nindeed over-passed, but the miracle of Superconscience is still a
\nmystery looming overhead. This is a kind of midterm between the two
\nmysteries\u2014an ambiguous life in an uncertain world.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy follows
\nthe trails of the greater Life. At first no aim is visible but only a
\nwide source of all things, pointing to a still wider source. There is
\na stronger pull from the Unknown above, a mightier and vaster
\nformation of the Life-Force. Yet much remains unrevealed. Aswapathy
\ntries to scan the tangled design spread before him but loses himself
\nrepeatedly in the labyrinth of signs and patterns. A thousand faces
\nof the Truth stare at him, voices speak to him, Ideas flash; he
\nwatches with amazement the appearance and disappearance of Life’s
\nhopes and joys and passions. He takes his poise in the Silence on the
\nheights and sees Life losing herself in Infinity. He identifies
\nhimself closely with her so that he might learn the secrets of her
\nsoul. He is overpowered by her splendour and display of skill. But he
\nsees also her being within that is disappointed at her failure to
\nseize the truth. The Divine Beloved is still beyond.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy feels the
\npresence of the Spirit in the forms built by Life, the Spirit from
\nwhich she derives her strength. But he is unable to decipher the
\ndesign in her vision, though he catches some hints at that high level
\nof Life-existence. He follows her course towards some infinitude and
\nreads her signs aright by intuitive flashes.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll is a play of
\nLife and Spirit, a game of hide and seek, gain and loss. The Spirit
\nhopes to possess Life, but loses himself in her manifold play. Hopes
\nand disappointments, joys and griefs, punctuate her routes. With all
\nthe pain and tears, however, it is a joy to live; for there is a Will
\nbehind each life; God has created everything on purpose. This element
\nat the core gives meaning to Life, though she has wandered far away
\nfrom her governing truth in her plunge down from her spiritual home.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTo manifest the
\nDivine Reality was the mission with which Life was charged. But her
\nperformance has lagged behind her objective. She is not permitted to
\ncease from her labours and she must endure, strive and move on. Life
\nand the soul within her have no respite from the march. Each goal
\npoints to the next. Behind all effort, there is a memory of the lost
\nglory and beyond all failures, there is a Splendour that beckons.
\nLife is perpetually in toil to realise her dream. There is an abiding
\nfaith that a time must come when the Divine will respond to her Call
\nand manifest His Verities of Truth, Beauty, Love and Bliss in Life’s
\ncreations and restore her to her true immortal state.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTill then her
\nlabours must continue, however vain, however fruitless they may seem
\nand though her world appear a pointless mistake of the gods.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Escape
\nfrom Dull Anarchy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs one who between
\ndim receding walls
Towards the far gleam of a tunnel\u2019s mouth,
\n
Hoping for light, walks now with freer pace
And feels
\napproach a breath of wider air,
So he escaped from that grey
\nanarchy. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy’s passage
\nfrom the kingdoms of little life where everything is unsure,
\nshifting, obscure and dull is like a journey through a dim tunnel.
\nHis pace quickens as he sights the distant gleam of the opening at
\nthe end and feels the breath of a fresh air. Thus he comes out of the
\ndim, disorderly belt of the little life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Ineffectual
\nWorld<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nInto an ineffectual
\nworld he came,
A purposeless region of arrested birth
Where
\nbeing from non-being fled and dared
To live but had no strength
\nlong to abide. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe world into which
\nhe emerges has an air of fruitlessness. Things are trying to come to
\nbirth but their attempts succeed only partially. There is a willed
\neffort to be but there is not enough strength to survive long.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Crying
\nfor Direction<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAbove there gleamed
\na pondering brow of sky
Tormented, crossed by wings of doubtful
\nhaze
Adventuring with a voice of roaming winds
And crying for
\na direction in the void
Like blind souls looking for the selves
\nthey lost
And wandering through unfamiliar worlds;
Wings of
\nvague questioning met the query of Space. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe air is thick
\nwith questionings. Nothing is yet certain. Life is on the move
\nseeking a direction but not knowing where to turn, like souls who in
\nthe blindness of their ignorance have lost their identity and wander
\nabout looking for the truth of their existence in the strange worlds
\nwhere they find themselves.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Dawn
\nof Hope<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAfter denial dawned
\na dubious hope,
A hope of self and form and leave to live
And
\nthe birth of that which never yet could be,
And joy of the mind\u2019s
\nhazard, the heart\u2019s choice,
Grace of the unknown and hands of
\nsudden surprise
And a touch of sure delight in unsure things:
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFrom the ubiquitous
\ndenial of everything in the worlds of lower life, Aswapathy passes
\ninto a realmwhere there is hope however uncertain it be. Here in the
\nkingdoms of higher life there are possibilities of existence for
\nforms, of birth for things which could not come to be so far, of joy
\nfor the mind in its probings, of freedom for the heart to choose, of
\nunfailing delight in things, however uncertain they be, of the action
\nof the Grace of God, unexpected and surprising.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Uncertain
\nTract (I)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTo a strange
\nuncertain tract his journey came
Where consciousness played with
\nunconscious self
And birth was an attempt or episode. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThings are still
\nuncertain, though not denied the right to live. There is here a play
\nof consciousness\u2014what is unaware is acted upon to awake into
\nawareness. But things take birth only to pass; they do not last, they
\ncan stay only briefly. However, even this birth into brief existence
\nis a gain.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Uncertain
\nTract (II)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA charm drew near
\nthat could not keep its spell,
An eager Power that could not find
\nits way,
A Chance that chose a strange arithmetic
But could
\nnot bind with it the forms it made,
A multitude that could not
\nguard its sum
Which less than zero grew and more than one.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere Beauty and
\nPower from the higher regions attempt to enter and remain, but they
\nare unable to do so as conditions are not ready for them to endure.
\nIt looks as if all moves by chance though there seems to be a
\nmysterious order in that chance. Forms in their multitude come into
\nendless being but they refuse to be determined. They are in their
\ntotality innumerable, but ultimately they amount to less than
\nnothing.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Mythic
\nAir<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nArriving at a large
\nand shadowy sense
That cared not to define its fleeting drift
\n
Life laboured in a strange and mythic air
Denuded of her
\nsweet magnificent suns. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere all is vague.
\nLife strives under a vast shadow of uncertainty not knowing where she
\nis drifting. The atmosphere is unfamiliar. There is an air of
\nunreality. The bright light that nourishes her other realms is not
\nhere.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>No
\nAchievement<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn worlds imagined,
\nnever yet made true,
A lingering glimmer on creation\u2019s verge,
\n
One strayed and dreamed and never stopped to achieve:
To
\nachieve would have destroyed that magic Space. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is a domain where
\ndreams and imaginations play riot and prepare the ground for some
\neventual creation. But nothing concrete is achieved. All is at the
\nenchanting stage of pre-formation where anything seems possible; the
\nhard realities of the actual do not disturb this world of
\nenchantment.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Marvels
\nof Wonderland<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe marvels of a
\ntwilight wonderland,
Full of a beauty strangely, vainly made,
A
\nsurge of fanciful realities,
Dim tokens of a Splendour sealed
\nabove,
Awoke the passion of the eyes\u2019 desire,
Compelled
\nbelief on the enamoured thought
And drew the heart but led it to
\nno goal. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn this realm of
\nwonder there is a surge of movements\u2014movements of Beauty and of
\nGlory trying to formulate something of the divine Splendour of the
\nveiled heights above. These powerful movements that attract the eye
\nimpart a sense of certainty to the helplessly drawn mind and pull the
\nwill towards them, though ultimately they achieve nothing definite.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Fugitive
\nDelicacy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA magic flowed as if
\nof moving scenes
That kept awhile their fugitive delicacy
Of
\nsparing lines limned by an abstract art
In a rare scanted light
\nwith faint dream-brush
On a silver background of incertitude.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThings here keep on
\nchanging their indefinite contours against a background that is
\nitself uncertain. The light is dim adding to the enchantment of the
\nscene.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Infant
\nGlow of Heavens<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAn infant glow of
\nheavens near to morn,
A fire intense conceived but never lit,
\n
Caressed the air with ardent hints of day. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is not yet broad
\ndaylight. There is but the glow of dawn in the skies, holding the
\npromise of the outbreak of flaming light, filling the air with
\nexpectation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Region
\nof Promise<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe perfect longing
\nfor imperfection\u2019s charm,
The illumined caught by the snare of
\nIgnorance,
Ethereal creatures drawn by body\u2019s lure
To that
\nregion of promise, beating invisible wings,
Came hungry for the
\njoy of finite life
But too divine to tread created soil
And
\nshare the fate of perishable things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere come the truths
\nof the Divine Being attracted by the possibilities of adventure into
\ntheir opposites. What is perfect wishes to experience the novelty of
\nimperfection; Knowledge seeks to sport with Ignorance; subtle
\nexistences want to embody themselves in gross forms; the Infinite
\nwants to play the finite. But they are reluctant to go the whole way
\nand pay the price of death for participation in creation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Children
\nof Gleam<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Children of the
\nunembodied Gleam
Arisen from a formless thought in the soul
And
\nchased by an imperishable desire,
Traversed the field of the
\npursuing gaze. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll these are truths
\nthat have issued from the being of the Creative Soul in the wake of a
\nperception, a certain possibility, and impelled by desire, k\u0101ma, to
\nactualise that possibility. The Truth-vision creates the field for
\nthe Truth-perception to shape itself and the whole movement takes
\nplace in that developing field.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nFailing Will<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA will that
\nunpersisting failed, worked there:
Life was a search but finding
\nnever came. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere on this plane
\nof life the will to live is not strong enough to persist against the
\ncontrary pulls of nature. It fails. Life is in search of something
\nbut she does not succeed in her object. There is no continuity of
\nwill.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Pale
\nDreams<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere nothing
\nsatisfied, but all allured,
Things seemed to be that never wholly
\nare,
Images were seen that looked like living acts
And
\nsymbols hid the sense they claimed to show,
Pale dreams grew real
\nto the dreamer\u2019s eyes. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is here no
\ncertainty, no satisfaction of fulfilment. All is compulsively
\nattractive, seeming to be real but never actually so; images abound
\nbut they are only unsubstantial figures; symbols do not reveal but
\nonly veil what they stand for. It is a world of vague dreams that
\nappears real to the dreamer.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Souls
\nStrive Vainly<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe souls came there
\nthat vainly strive for birth,
And spirits entrapped might wander
\nthrough all time,
Yet never find the truth by which they live.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSouls that come for
\nembodiment cannot hope to achieve their purpose here. Entities and
\nforces which are attracted to this scheme of life may stay here under
\nits spell and strive for all time but the truth which bases their
\nexistence and is the justification of their being will not be found
\nhere.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Nothing
\nSolid<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll ran like hopes
\nthat hunt a lurking chance;
Nothing was solid, nothing felt
\ncomplete:
All was unsafe, miraculous and half-true. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt seemed a realm of
\nlives that had no base. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll forces, all
\nbeings here are on the move hoping to catch some opportunity that may
\ncome by, as human hopes that persist, expecting chance favours, some
\ntime or other.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nNothing here is
\nconcrete, nothing fulfilled, nothing fully true. All is precarious,
\nmore untrue than true; existence itself is a miracle, Lives there are
\nbut they have no firm standing-ground.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Dawn
\nof Broadened Sky<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThen dawned a
\ngreater seeking, broadened sky,
A journey under wings of brooding
\nForce. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFirst came the
\nkingdom of the morning star:
A twilight beauty trembled under its
\nspear
And the throb of promise of a wider Life. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs Aswapathy
\nproceeds he enters, under the spell of a gathering Force, into
\nanother belt of larger vistas, higher impulsions. First comes a realm
\nof trembling light, beauteous and astir with hints of a wider
\nmanifestation of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Seeking
\nfor Deep Self<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThen slowly rose a
\ngreat and doubting sun
And in its light she made of self a world.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA spirit was there
\nthat sought for its own deep self,
Yet was content with fragments
\npushed in front
And parts of living that belied the Whole
But,
\npieced together, might one day be true. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThen there breaks a
\ngreater and fuller light, which, however, is somewhat unsure of
\nitself. In this light Life seeks to find her own real self and
\norganise a world around it. But all that she succeeds in doing is to
\nthrow up fragmentary constructions which are far from the figure of
\nher self, though eventually they could, in their totality, answer to
\nits truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Something
\nAchieved<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nYet something seemed
\nto be achieved at last. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA growing volume of
\nthe will to be,
A text of living and a graph of force,
A
\nscript of acts, a song of conscious forms
Burdened with meanings
\nfugitive from thought\u2019s grasp
And crowded with undertones of
\nlife\u2019s rhythmic cry,
Could write itself on the hearts of living
\nthings. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll the same there
\nis here some definite advance towards achievement. There is a
\nstronger impress of the will to exist, a bolder formulation of life
\nand connected action. There is a greater expression of consciousness
\nin forms\u2014though its significances elude the grasp of thought\u2014and
\nan audibly pervading rhythm of the breath of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Outbreak
\nof the Might of the Spirit<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn an outbreak of
\nthe might of secret Spirit,
In Life and Matter\u2019s answer of
\ndelight,
Some face of deathless beauty could be caught
That
\ngave immortality to a moment\u2019s joy, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTo the outburst of
\nthe Power of the indwelling Spirit, there is a joyous response from
\nMatter and Life, creating thereby an opportunity for a revelation of
\nsome aspect of the Beauty of the Eternal. This revelation gives a
\ntouch of immortality to the joy of life however momentary it may be.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBeauty, Delight,
\nImmortality follow in the wake of the plenary manifestation of the
\nDivine Spirit in Life and Matter.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Word
\nincarnating Highest Truth<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSome word that could
\nincarnate highest Truth
Leaped out from a chance tension of the
\nsoul, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is also, in
\nthis dynamic situation, a finding of the exact expression in Word by
\nthe Truth seeking to manifest itself.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is only when the
\nbeing is withdrawn from all dispersion and ingathered in
\nconcentration that the perfect Word capable of embodying the highest
\ntruth\u2014mantra\u2014is prepared and takes shape in the consciousness.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Hue
\nof the Absolute<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSome hue of the
\nAbsolute could fall on life,
Some glory of knowledge and
\nintuitive sight,
Some passion of the rapturous heart of Love.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOther verities of
\nthe Divine Reality also manifest. Some glowing aspect of the
\nAbsolute, as an illumination of knowledge, a vision of intuition, an
\nintensity of the power of Love, play on Life, following an outbreak
\nof the might of the secret Spirit.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>The
\nWill that Half Manifests<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA hierophant of the
\nbodiless Secrecy
Interned in an unseen spiritual sheath,
The
\nWill that pushes sense beyond its scope
To feel the light and joy
\nintangible,
Half found its way into the Ineffable\u2019s peace,
\n
Half captured a sealed sweetness of desire
That yearned from
\na bosom of mysterious Bliss,
Half manifested veiled Reality.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe active Will to
\nmanifest what is un-manifested begins to be more effective. It is
\nthis Will that forces the limited senses to extend their range beyond
\ntheir habitual run of the gross and feel something of the subtler
\nlight and joy in existence. This unceasing Will finds here something
\nof the peace of the ineffable Reality, something of the sweet longing
\nwelling from a. hidden Bliss at the root of things. It manifests
\npartly the Reality behind the veil.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Glimpse
\nof the True Sense<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA soul not wrapped
\ninto its cloak of mind
Could glimpse the true sense of a world of
\nforms;
Illumined by a vision in the thought,
Upbuoyed by the
\nheart\u2019s understanding flame,
It could hold in the conscious
\nether of the spirit
The divinity of a symbol universe. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is possible for
\nthe soul here as it is not yet covered by the misleading and blinding
\nmind\u2014to perceive the real significance of this world of forms. A
\nluminous vision informs its thought; a direct understanding in the
\nheart rises up and it is able as a result, to grasp and hold in its
\nspiritual poise the divine nature of this universe which is in fact a
\nFigure of the Reality.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>This
\nRealm Inspires us<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis realm inspires
\nus with our vaster hopes;
Its forces have made landings on our
\nglobe,
Its signs have stamped their patterns on our lives:
It
\nlends a sovereign movement to our fate,
Its errant waves motive
\nour life\u2019s high surge. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis realm of
\ngreater life has its action on our earth. The larger movements,
\nhigher aspirations and strivings in our human world are inspired from
\nthere. Things from there cast their moulds here on earth and forces
\nfrom there communicate their achieving power here. The mighty
\nupsurges of our lives particularly are, as it were, the overflow of
\nthe coursings of the Life-movements in that realm above.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>All
\nis Prefigured there<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll that we seek for
\nis prefigured there
And all we have not known nor even sought
\n
Which yet one day must be born in human hearts
That the
\nTimeless may fulfil itself in things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll that we strive
\nfor here on earth is there, in that Life-realm, prepared and ready to
\nbe precipitated into the material world. There stands prefigured even
\nwhat we are not aware of or have sought for, but which, nevertheless,
\nhas to be realised at some time or other for the fullness of the
\nmanifestation here of the Divine Reality.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nMounting Endless Possibility<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIncarnate in the
\nmystery of the days,
Eternal in an unclosed Infinite,
A
\nmounting endless possibility
Climbs high upon a topless ladder of
\ndream
Forever in the Being\u2019s conscious trance. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the Eternal Being
\nare endless possibilities. One of these possibilities which is
\nsanctioned by theSupreme sets out on its career and this Creation is
\nthe result. It is a conscious movement of the Eternal pouring itself
\nin Time, of the Infinite devolving into the finite. This devolution
\nof the Higher into the lower term is one part of the movement; the
\nevolution of the lower into the Higher, the ascent, is the other part
\nof the possibility.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe finite ascends
\ninto the Infinite up the evolutionary ladder that has no end.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Pilgrimage
\nto the Unknown<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll on that ladder
\nmounts to an unseen end. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAn Energy of
\nperpetual transience makes
The journey from which no return is
\nsure,
The pilgrimage of Nature to the Unknown. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFrom the known all
\nclimbs to the Unknown. There is in action a mighty Life-Energy whose
\nproducts may be of temporary duration but whose working is ceaseless
\nin forging the path and effecting the ascent of evolutionary Nature
\nto the summits of Existence that transcend the horizons of the mind.
\nThe journey is ever forward.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Ascent
\nto the Lost Source<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs if in her ascent
\nto her lost source
She hoped to unroll all that could ever be,
\n
Her high procession moves from stage to stage,
A progress
\nleap from sight to greater sight,
A process march from form to
\nampler form,
A caravan of the inexhaustible
Formations of a
\nboundless Thought and Force. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis is in fact the
\nascent of Life to her own Source above, the cit\u015bakti, from which she
\nhas got separated in the course of the devolution of the Spirit. The
\nascent is also an unrolling, a manifestation of all that seeks to
\nmanifest. This movement proceeds systematically, step by step; from a
\nlower light it climbs to a higher, from a restricted sight to a
\ngreater. The process develops from small and simple forms to the
\nbuilding of larger and more intricate forms. The way is strewn with
\nthe countless formations of Force and Thought thus created.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Power
\nErects the Type of Lost Joys<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHer timeless Power
\nthat lay once on the lap
Of a beginningless and endless Calm,
\n
Now severed from the Spirit\u2019s immortal bliss,
Erects the
\ntype of all the joys she has lost; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBefore this movement
\nof devolution and evolution begins, Life-Power lies at rest in the
\nBeing of the Eternal. Once she is released into action and in the
\ncourse of the descent gets separated from her source in the Eternal’s
\nConsciousness-Force that is blissful, she tries to recapture what is
\nlost. She goes on to rebuild, in the conditions of her fall, the
\npattern of those joys that were once natural to her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Hopes
\nto Heal the Severance<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nCompelling transient
\nsubstance into shape,
She hopes by the creative act\u2019s release
\n
To o\u2019erleap sometimes the gulf she cannot fill,
To heal
\nawhile the wound of severance,
Escape from the moment\u2019s prison
\nof littleness
And meet the Eternal\u2019s wide sublimities
In
\nthe uncertain time-field portioned here. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis Power of Life
\nforces substances to shape into forms and in the very momentum of her
\ncreative advance registers certain leaps, saltus, over gulfs that
\ncannot be bridged in the normal way. She attempts in several ways of
\ncontact, meeting and union to unite what has been severed. She
\nstrives for release into the freer heights of the Spirit from the
\nlimitations that have formed around her and curb her actions while
\nthey last. She strives also to gain something of the assured freedom
\nof the Eternal even in the uncertainty of the workings of Time in
\nthis realm.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEach plane of
\nexistence has its own Time with its own characteristic Time-action.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>She
\nNears the Unattainable (I)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAlmost she nears
\nwhat never can be attained;
She shuts eternity into an hour
And
\nfills a little soul with the Infinite; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAlmost she achieves
\nthe impossible. She imprisons Eternity in the flow of Time and
\nconcentrates the Infinite in the tiny soul at the heart of all living
\nforms. In her meet Eternity and Time, the Infinite and the Finite.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>She
\nNears the Unattainable (II)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Immobile leans
\nto the magic of her call;
She stands on a shore in the
\nIllimitable,
Perceives the formless Dweller in all forms
And
\nfeels around her infinity\u2019s embrace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAlso meet in her and
\nin her workings, the Immobile and the mobile; what is in movement is
\nsupported by the Moveless. Though she needs a boundary for the
\ndynamis of her work, her field extends into the Boundless. She
\ncreates forms but is aware of the presence of the Formless Divinity
\nin each form. With all her finite and finitising movements she feels
\npalpably the Infinite upholding her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Driven
\nby a Nameless Will<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHer task no ending
\nknows, she serves no aim
But labours driven by a nameless Will
\n
That came from some unknowable formless Vast. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is no finale
\nas such to the strivings of this labouring Power. She has no
\nconscious, chosen aim before her. She is driven to labour by an
\nundefined Will which is not her own but comes from another source,
\nfrom a range of Being that breaks away from forms and cannot be known
\nby the normal faculties.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Secret
\nTask<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis is her secret
\nand impossible task
To catch the boundless in a net of birth,
To
\ncast the spirit into physical form,
To lend speech and thought to
\nthe Ineffable;
She is pushed to reveal the ever Unmanifest.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAnd this is the
\nwell-nigh impossible task set by the Will, this is the object the
\nLife-Power is driven to achieve: to bind with birth the Reality that
\nis without bounds; to embody the formless Spirit in a form of Matter;
\nto formulate and express the Truth that in its innate nature is
\nbeyond formulation by mind and speech\u2014’That from which mind and
\nspeech fall back unattaining’ (Taittiriya Upanishad, 2.4.1.)<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn a word, to
\nmanifest the Reality that is unmanifest.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Her
\nSkill in Doing the Impossible<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nYet by her skill the
\nimpossible has been done:
She follows her sublime irrational
\nplan,
Invents devices of her magic art
To find new bodies for
\nthe Infinite
And images of the Unimaginable;
She has lured
\nthe Eternal into the arms of Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHowever impossible
\nthis task appears to be, it is being fulfilled by the Power at work.
\nHer movements follow a profound plan which human reason cannot fathom
\nor anticipate. She displays an endless skill in providing newer and
\nnewer forms to the Formless Infinite Reality that seeks to manifest,
\nin revealing increasingly That which cannot be wholly imaged.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nShe has succinctly
\ncaptured Eternity in the flow of Time, made the Timeless manifest in
\nterms of Time.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Beneath
\na Baffling Mask<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven now herself she
\nknows not what she has done. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFor all is wrought
\nbeneath a baffling mask: <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut the Life-Power
\nis not overtly conscious of the significance of her achievement in
\nthe total scheme that is being worked out. What appears on the
\nsurface of life as a confused action is only a mask; behind that
\nmisleading exterior a meaningful work is being done by an
\nIntelligence that directs from within.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Truth
\nHidden<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA semblance other
\nthan its hidden truth
The aspect wears of an illusion\u2019s trick,
\n
A feigned time-driven unreality,
The unfinished creation of a
\nchanging soul
In a body changing with the inhabitant. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe appearance is
\nthat of an illusion; nothing seems to last, all is subject to the
\nprocess and decay of time; an unreal masquerades as some real. There
\nis ever a gap of incompleteness in this changing creation. But that
\nis not the real truth. The truth of creation is yet hidden.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Timeless
\nMystery in Time<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nInsignificant her
\nmeans, infinite her work;
On a great field of shapeless
\nconsciousness
In little finite strokes of mind and sense
An
\nendless truth she endlessly unfolds;
A timeless mystery works out
\nin Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe work before this
\nLife-Power is vast and endless, but the means wherewith to execute it
\nare paltry and limited in capacity. The ground on which she labours
\nis an amorphous spread of consciousness and her puny instruments are
\nthe limited mind and the senses. The truth she is to manifest is
\nendless and so is her work.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThrough her workings
\nsome Truth that is eternal and transcendent reveals itself in the
\nfield of Time.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>She
\nLabours on<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe greatness she
\nhas dreamed her acts have missed,
Her labour is a passion and a
\npain,
A rapture and pang, her glory and her curse;
And yet
\nshe cannot choose but labours on;
Her mighty heart forbids her to
\ndesist. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is indeed a
\nbig gap between what she aims at and what is actually realised. And
\nyet she is seized with a passion to achieve. The intensity of her
\ndrive is at once her joy and her pain. She has no choice but to go on
\nstriving. The Will in her goads her on.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Her
\nFailure Lives<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs long as the world
\nlasts her failure lives
Astonishing and foiling Reason\u2019s gaze,
\n
A folly and a beauty unspeakable,
A superb madness of the
\nwill to live,
A daring, a delirium of delight. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nShe may have failed
\nto achieve the greatness aimed at, but the failure does not peter
\naway. Whatever is achieved lasts, bewildering the calculations of
\nReason, indescribable in its beauty, however purposeless it may
\nseem,\u2014an exciting essay of the will to be, a bold phantasy of the
\ndelight of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Will
\nto Lavish<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis is her being\u2019s
\nlaw, its sole resource;
She sates, though satisfaction never
\ncomes,
Her hungry will to lavish everywhere
Her many-imaged
\nfictions of the Self
And thousand fashions of one Reality.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis is the very
\nnature of the Life-Power. She gives in reckless profusion but no
\ncontentment is there. She is ever at work to produce and throw up
\nmore and more varieties of forms, countless figures of the Reality
\nthat is One.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe fiction is the
\nsense of separateness in the individual forms, the reality is their
\nunderlying oneness.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nWorld Touched by Truth’s Hem<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA world she made
\ntouched by truth\u2019s fleeing hem,
A world cast into a dream of
\nwhat it seeks,
An icon of truth, a conscious mystery\u2019s shape.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe world thus
\ncreated by Life is not a world of truth but one of fantasy touched by
\nsomething of the truth which could escape its fantasies. It is more
\nof a dream than an actuality of what is sought for. It is some
\nrepresentation of truth, a form of a living mystery.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nDaring World<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt lingered not like
\nthe earth-mind hemmed in
In solid barriers of apparent fact;
It
\ndared to trust the dream-mind and the soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nUnlike the realm of
\nthe physical mind which confines itself to the field and data of the
\nsenses that take cognisance only of the physically obvious
\nphenomenon, this world has a larger flight. It extends itself on the
\nwings of the mind that dreams and adventures at the call of the soul.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Hunter
\nof Spiritual Verities<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA hunter of
\nspiritual verities
Still only thought or guessed or held by
\nfaith,
It seized in imagination and confined
A painted bird
\nof paradise in a cage. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis Life-world is
\nin search of the higher truths of the Spirit which its thought points
\nto or some intuitive feeling assures. But it does not realise these
\ntruths, only imagines them; what it seizes and holds to is only a
\nbright imitation of the living truth that eludes it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Enamoured
\nof the Unseen<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis greater life is
\nenamoured of the Unseen;
It calls to some highest Light beyond
\nits reach,
It can feel the Silence that absolves the soul;
It
\nfeels a saviour touch, a ray divine:
Beauty and good and truth
\nits godheads are. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis greater Life is
\nattracted to what is beyond it. It always seeks for the Splendour
\nthat is above its range. It is capable of touching the Silence in
\nwhich the striving soul finds its delivering release. It feels the
\ntouch of the Divine Grace, receives a ray of the Divine Glory. Its
\ngoverning Ideals, the truths it seeks to realise, are the True, the
\nGood, the Beautiful, satyam, sivam, sundaram.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Kinship
\nwith Demon and God<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is near to
\nheavenlier heavens than earth\u2019s eyes see,
A direr darkness than
\nman\u2019s life can bear. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt has kinship with
\nthe demon and the god. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIf, however, this
\ngreater Life is closer to the heavens that are brighter than the
\nheavens of the earth-order\u2014each order of existence, physical,
\nvital, mental, has its own heavens\u2014it is also exposed to hells that
\nare darker and worse than the hells of the earth-life. Greater Life
\nhas strong affinities to both good and evil, light and darkness, god
\nand demon.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Hunger
\nfor Perfection<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA strange enthusiasm
\nhas moved its heart;
It hungers for heights, it passions for the
\nsupreme. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt hunts for the
\nperfect word, the perfect shape,
It leaps to the summit thought,
\nthe summit light. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFor by the form the
\nFormless is brought close
And all perfection fringes the
\nAbsolute. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe fervour that
\nfills the movements of greater Life asks for constant increase, for
\nlarger and higher ranges; it desires intensely to reach the supreme
\nDivinity. It strives to attain to the perfect expression, the perfect
\nform, the highest thought, the highest light.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt seeks for form
\nbecause the Reality that is formless can be made tangible only
\nthrough form. It seeks for perfection because the Absolute that is
\nFull and Perfect can be approached only through increasing
\nperfection.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>It
\ncan Touch but not Hold<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA child of heaven
\nwho never saw his home,
Its impetus meets the eternal at a point:
\n
It can only near and touch, it cannot hold;
It can only
\nstrain towards some bright extreme:
Its greatness is to seek and
\nto create. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis greater Life
\nthough derived from the divine Consciousness-Force, cit-\u015bakti, has
\nnot realised its true nature yet. By the force of its drive it comes
\nclose to and touches the Higher Existence, but it cannot hold it. It
\ncan only strive towards these brighter ends but not arrive. Its
\nspecial excellence is its capacity to push towards greater things and
\nto try to create them.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Creative
\nGreatness<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOn every plane, this
\nGreatness must create. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOn earth, in heaven,
\nin hell she is the same;
Of every fate she takes her mighty part.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe might of this
\ngreater Life is a force for effectuation on every plane of Existence.
\nShe participates in the creative action in all conditions of the
\nmanifestation that is in progress, whether of light and joy or
\ndarkness and suffering or of both mixed together as on earth. She is
\nthere in the building of each destiny.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Bears
\nGod’s Urge<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA guardian of the
\nfire that lights the suns,
She triumphs in her glory and her
\nmight:
Opposed, oppressed she bears God\u2019s urge to be born:
The
\nspirit survives upon non-being\u2019s ground,
World-force outlasts
\nworld-disillusion\u2019s shock:
Dumb, she is still the Word, inert
\nthe Power. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife holds in her
\nbosom the creative urge that fathers the universe; she carries a
\nconquering fervour that breaks down obstructions; she has an
\nirrepressible impulsion to be born and to live. Where there was
\nnothing she affirms and establishes an existence of her force and
\nspirit that withstands all shocks and survives. She may appear
\ninarticulate, but she is always the potent expressive; she may hold
\nherself immobile, but she is ever a dynamis.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Aspires
\nto the Deathless<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere fallen, a slave
\nof death and ignorance,
To things deathless she is driven to
\naspire
And moved to know even the Unknowable. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere on earth Life
\nis subject to death and ignorance; she is far removed from her native
\nstate. But deep in her is the memory of her origin and that goads her
\nto strive to reach and regain her rightful immortality, to outgrow
\nthe ignorance and emerge into a full knowledge of the Reality that
\nremains unknowable in the state of ignorance.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Her
\nSleep Creates a World<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven nescient, null,
\nher sleep creates a world. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWhen most unseen,
\nmost mightily she works;
Housed in the atom, buried in the clod
\n
Her quick creative passion cannot cease. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven when this
\nLife-energy is not overtly active, not outwardly perceivable, she
\nworks dynamically beneath the surface. Her workings there are more
\neffective because they are less open to interference by contrary
\nelements. She is there pulsating even in an infinitesimal formation
\nlike the atom, hidden even in such an inconscient form as the clod.
\nShe is ceaselessly vibrant in her creative beat.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>She
\nHides Her Immortality<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nInconscience is her
\nlong gigantic pause,
Her cosmic swoon is a stupendous phase:
\n
Time-born, she hides her immortality;
In death, her bed, she
\nwaits the hour to rise. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWhat is called the
\ninconscient is only a stage, a deliberate suspension of her movement,
\na productive in-gathering. Though immortal in her origin in the
\nEternal Being, Life has a different appearance in the field of time;
\nher real nature is concealed, she accepts the setting and conditions
\nof death and bides her time to assert her true self.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Crucified
\nGod on Her Breast<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven with the Light
\ndenied that sent her forth
And the hope dead she needed for her
\ntask,
Even when her brightest stars are quenched in Night,
\n
Nourished by hardship and calamity
And with pain for her
\nbody\u2019s handmaid, masseuse, nurse,
Her tortured invisible spirit
\ncontinues still
To toil though in darkness, to create though with
\npangs;
She carries crucified God upon her breast. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife is bereft of
\nthe Light of Consciousness from which she has originally issued; she
\nis obliged to work in the darkness of Ignorance with its dim shadows
\npursuing her everywhere; her guiding lights\u2014however bright they may
\nbe\u2014are swallowed up in the dark; obstruction, disaster, pain dog
\nher steps constantly; but she thrives on these very elements of
\nopposition, grows in stature and creates through these pangs of
\nbirth. Her creation is born in the stress of suffering and exists in
\npain.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Remembers
\nand Invokes the Skill of Creation<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn chill insentient
\ndepths where joy is none,
Immured, oppressed by the resisting
\nVoid
Where nothing moves and nothing can become,
Still she
\nremembers, still invokes the skill
The Wonder-Worker gave her at
\nher birth, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nShe is at first
\nconfined in the deep gulfs of the Inconscient where there is no
\nsensation, no joy, no movement. All is a black void and nothing can
\ntake shape. But Life carries in herself the memory of her origin; she
\nremembers and invokes the skill of formation with which she was
\nendowed by the Creative Spirit of this marvellous manifestation when
\nhe first set her forth on her appointed career.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Reveals
\na World<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nImparts to drowsy
\nformlessness a shape,
Reveals a world where nothing was before.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn realms confined
\nto a prone circle of death,
To a dark eternity of Ignorance,
A
\nquiver in an inert inconscient mass, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWhere there is no
\nform but only a sleepy existence, she creates form; where there is
\nnothing but an empire of death she creates a living world perceivable
\neven in the reigning darkness of Ignorance; where there is an
\ninconscient mass without any movement, she sets up a throb.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>She
\nReposes Motionless<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOr imprisoned in
\nimmobilised whorls of Force,
By Matter\u2019s blind compulsion deaf
\nand mute
She reposes motionless in its dust of sleep. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOr she holds herself
\nat rest, without motion, in the depths of Matter where her Force is
\nstill and inexpressive under the compelling spell of Matter’s rule.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Fashions
\nMarvels Out of Mud (I)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThen, for her rebel
\nwaking\u2019s punishment
Given only hard mechanic Circumstance
As
\nthe enginery of her magic craft,
She fashions godlike marvels out
\nof mud; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs if in punishment
\nfor breaking up the material order of immobility and inconscience,
\nLife is given the most rigid conditions for her working. And yet so
\ngreat is her skill that even from such crude material as mud she
\nfashions creations that are godlike.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Fashions
\nMarvels Out of Mud (II)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the plasm she
\nsets her dumb immortal urge,
Helps the live tissue to think, the
\nclosed sense to feel,
Flashes through the frail nerves poignant
\nmessages,
In a heart of flesh miraculously loves,
To brute
\nbodies gives a soul, a will, a voice. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAnd what are the
\ngodlike wonders that she creates? In the smallest physical cell of
\nthe body she plants, the life-urge; promotes the capacity to think in
\nthe tissues and to feel and react in the insentient senses; uses the
\nnerve-channel for the communication of impacts of pleasure and pain
\nand the like to the brain; manifests non-physical movements, like the
\nemotion of love in the physical organ of the heart; endows the
\nmaterial body, an inert physical form, with a living soul, a
\ndirecting will and a voice to express itself.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Journey
\nof Life<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEver she summons as
\nby a sorcerer\u2019s wand
Beings and shapes and scenes innumerable,
\n
Torch-bearers of her pomps through Time and Space. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis world is her
\nlong journey through the night,
The suns and planets lamps to
\nlight her road,
Our reason is the confidante of her thoughts,
\n
Our senses are her vibrant witnesses. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis world-creation
\nis indeed a procession of the caravan of Life through the darkness of
\nIgnorance. Time and Space are her field. Luminaries like the suns and
\nplanets light up her pathway. Reason is her collaborator and the
\nsenses her active observers. Both reason and senses subserve Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Dreams
\nReplace Lost Eternity<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere drawing her
\nsigns from things half true, half false,
She labours to replace
\nby realised dreams
The memory of her lost eternity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHowever, the things
\nshe draws upon for her creation are neither fully true, nor fully
\nfalse, with the result that what she is able to effect is of the
\nnature of dreams seeming real enough while they last but proving
\ntheir unreality when they pass away. This is all that she can create
\nto replace the immortality of her origin of which she has but a
\nhaunting memory.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Endless
\nPilgrimage<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThese are her deeds
\nin this huge world-ignorance:
Till the veil is lifted, till the
\nnight is dead,
In light or dark she keeps her tireless search;
\n
Time is her road of endless pilgrimage. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife keeps up her
\nrelentless striving to recreate the Eternal here in this world, and
\npushes her wayacross the dark or semi-dark passages in this empire of
\nIgnorance. And she will go on doing so till the veil of darkness is
\ncast aside; her path is as endless as Time in which her journey takes
\nplace.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Her
\nMighty Passion<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOne mighty passion
\nmotives all her works. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHer eternal Lover is
\nher action\u2019s cause;
For him she leaped forth from the unseen
\nVasts
To move here in a stark unconscious world. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife is in her
\norigin a Power of the creative Divine. She is a Power that has issued
\nforth from His Being to fulfil His will and to manifest His Glory
\nunder conditions that are the very reverse of His innate and supreme
\nConsciousness and Bliss. To create and recreate till this object is
\nfulfilled is the passionate endeavour of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Shakti acts for
\nher Lord.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Her
\nHidden Guest<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIts acts are her
\ncommerce with her hidden Guest,
His moods she takes for her
\nheart\u2019s passionate moulds;
In beauty she treasures the sunlight
\nof his smile. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife flows according
\nto the impulsions of this Will. Whatever is beautiful in her creation
\nis a reflection of the joy of the Purusha within her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>She
\nCajoles and Woos Him<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAshamed of her rich
\ncosmic poverty,
She cajoles with her small gifts his mightiness,
\n
Holds with her scenes his look\u2019s fidelity
And woos his
\nlarge-eyed wandering thoughts to dwell
In figures of her
\nmillion-impulsed Force. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll is her play for
\nthe delectation of her Lord. She is aware of the inadequacy of her
\ncosmic manifestations but she tries to interest him with her paltry
\ngifts. She strives to hold his attention by her varied picturesque
\nscenes and woos him to sanction and indwell her manifold creations.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Keeps
\nHim Close to Her Breast<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOnly to attract her
\nveiled companion
And keep him close to her breast in her
\nworld-cloak
Lest from her arms he turn to his formless peace,
Is
\nher heart\u2019s business and her clinging care. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHer one care is to
\nhold the attention of her Purusha in her world-playings and keep him
\nfrom turning back to his original status of ineffable and formless
\nPeace. She works to fulfil his Will but she also desires to have him
\nas her partner, participating in her movements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>That
\nNever They May Part<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nYet when he is most
\nnear, she feels him far. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFor contradiction is
\nher nature\u2019s law. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAlthough she is ever
\nin him and he in her,
As if unaware of the eternal tie,
Her
\nwill is to shut God into her works
And keep him as her cherished
\nprisoner
That never they may part again in Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife works through
\ncontraries. The conditions in which she is set to work are the very
\nopposite of her own nature. Immortal in her origin, she is given the
\ndomain of death as her field; boundless, she is given limited
\ninstruments through which to establish herself. At the core she is
\nluminously conscious that her Purusha is always with her, supporting
\nand guiding her movements from behind the veil. But she acts as if
\nshe were unaware of this eternal union and the only way in which she
\ncan hold him is to relate him to all her acts, confirm his presence
\nin all her movements, and not to allow him to escape her in the field
\nof time. She fears a repetition of the severance of the kind that
\ntook place at the origin of the creative movement when Power issued
\nout of the Supreme Being and at some stage in devolution parted from
\nit.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Chamber
\nof Spirit’s Sleep<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA sumptuous chamber
\nof the Spirit\u2019s sleep
At first she made, a deep interior room,
\n
Where he slumbers as if a forgotten guest. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn Life’s first
\npoise this Purusha, the Conscious Being, is asleep, as it were, in
\nthe spell of inconscience. He is hidden deep within folds after folds
\nof the tranced Spirit. There is no evidence of his existence at all.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Awakes
\nthe Sleeper<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut now she turns to
\nbreak the oblivious spell,
Awakes the sleeper on the sculptured
\ncouch;
She finds again the Presence in the form
And in the
\nlight that wakes with him recovers
A meaning in the hurry and
\ntrudge of Time,
And through this mind that once obscured the soul
\n
Passes a glint of unseen deity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nis felt. Life
\nbecomes aware of the purpose of her movements and catches through the
\nmind which at one stage veiled the truth some revelation of the
\nGodhead.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Creation,
\na Rainbow Bridge<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAcross a luminous
\ndream of spirit-space
She builds creation like a rainbow bridge
\n
Between the original Silence and the Void. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA net is made of the
\nmobile universe;
She weaves a snare for the conscious Infinite.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis greater Life
\nbuilds her Creation in the extension of the Spirit like a beautiful
\nand picturesque bridge between the white Silences on the summit of
\nExistence and the dark Void of Nescience below. And this moving
\nuniverse sufficiently attracts the Conscious Being to dwell in it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Her
\nKnowledge and Might<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA knowledge is with
\nher that conceals its steps
And seems a mute omnipotent
\nIgnorance. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA might is with her
\nthat makes wonders true;
The incredible is her stuff of common
\nfact. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife seems to act
\ndumbly and ignorantly though irresistibly; but in fact she is
\ninstinct with a knowledge that is dynamic from behind the veil. She
\nis also endowed with a strength and power that achieves impossibles;
\nshe goes on to make actual what is unbelievable.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Riddles
\nof Her Workings<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHer purposes, her
\nworkings riddles prove;
Examined, they grow other than they were,
\n
Explained, they seem yet more inexplicable. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife has her own
\nways of working her purposes. They baffle the human mind. Reason and
\nlogic cannot fathom her modes. When they try to probe into them,
\nappearances prove to be misleading and attempts at solving her
\nmysteries only deepen them.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Mystery
\nin our World Too<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven in our world a
\nmystery has reigned
Earth\u2019s cunning screen of trivial plainness
\nhides;
Her larger levels are of sorceries made. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nMystery belongs not
\nto the Life-world alone. Even on our physical earth there is a
\nmystery behind the deceptive veil of common phenomena. Inexplicable
\nformations and movements take place in the physical universe too,
\nespecially on those levels of its existence that are not too bound by
\ntheir physicality.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Enigma
\nin its Splendid Prism<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere the enigma
\nshows its splendid prism,
There is no deep disguise of
\ncommonness;
Occult, profound comes all experience,
Marvel is
\never new, miracle divine. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the Life-world
\nproper, however, the mystery is undisguised, it reigns in all its
\nrichness. The apparent alikeness in form and movement which misleads
\nis not there. Everything is marvellous, ever new, superbly
\nmiraculous, holding back its truth!<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Secrecy
\nof Hidden Sense<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is a screened
\nburden, a mysterious touch,
There is a secrecy of hidden sense.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAlthough no earthen
\nmask weighs on her face,
Into herself she flees from her own
\nsight. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is indeed no
\nmaterial covering concealing the truth of things in that world, but
\nstill the inner sense is withheld. Life is weighed down by a mystery,
\noverpowered by it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Form,
\nToken of Idea<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll forms are tokens
\nof some veiled idea
Whose covert purpose lurks from mind\u2019s
\npursuit,
Yet is a womb of sovereign consequence. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA form is not just a
\nshape that has somehow come to be. Each form is a self-figuration of
\nthe idea that seeks to express itself; the figure corresponds or
\nattempts to correspond to the quality and the stress of the
\nconsciousness within that ensouls the idea. The truth of this idea is
\nnot easily grasped by the mind. The truth is veiled, but on that
\naccount it is not ineffective. It is the seed out of which issues the
\nshaping of the form and its subsequent developments.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Thought
\nand Feeling an Act<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere every thought
\nand feeling is an act,
And every act a symbol and a sign,
And
\nevery symbol hides a living power. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn that life-world
\neven feeling and thinking are dynamic; they instantly produce
\nresults. They are not, as in our world here, preparatory to action
\nbut action itself. And each act there is a symbol of a veiled truth
\nin movement. Behind the symbol-act pulsates the vibrant power of
\nLife.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Only
\na Copy of Truth<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA universe she
\nbuilds from truths and myths,
But what she needed most she cannot
\nbuild;
All shown is a figure or copy of the Truth,
But the
\nReal veils from her its mystic face. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll else she finds,
\nthere lacks eternity;
All is sought out but missed the Infinite.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWith all her
\ndynamism, skill and ambition, all that this Life can succeed in
\nbuilding is a copy, an imitation of Truth, not the Truth itself which
\nalone can make her work immortal. Her creations are manifold, but
\nthey do not last; they break down sooner or later; eternity eludes
\nher. She succeeds in building forms but all the forms constitute only
\na finite; the infinite is beyond.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Only
\nan Image<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA consciousness lit
\nby a Truth above
Was felt; it saw the light but not the Truth:
\n
It caught the Idea and built from it a world;
It made an
\nImage there and called it God. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere in this realm
\nof greater Life Aswapathy feels the presence of a consciousness
\nlighted up by the rays of the Truth above. This consciousness is not
\nface to face with that Truth though it is bathed in its radiance. It
\nperceives something of that Truth as formulated in the Idea and
\nproceeds to build a world upon that basis. But what it is able to so
\nbuild is only an image of the Truth, though it may call it the Truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Something
\nTrue Harbours Here<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nYet something true
\nand inward harboured there. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe beings of that
\nworld of greater life,
Tenants of a larger air and freer space,
\n
Live not by the body or in outward things:
A deeper living
\nwas their seat of self. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll the same there
\nis something here in the world of greater Life that is true,
\nsomething that is turned inward. The atmosphere here is freer than
\nthat in the lower worlds, the field is larger. And the beings here do
\nnot live only on the surface of things, turned always to the
\nexternal\u2014as they do in the lower worlds. They live from within.
\nTheir base is deeper.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Domain
\nof Intimacy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn that intense
\ndomain of intimacy
Objects dwell as companions of the soul;
The
\nbody\u2019s actions are a minor script,
The surface rendering of a
\nlife within. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is a strong
\ncommonalty, a deep oneness of life in this world. There is no
\nseparative demarcation between the inner and the outer; objects are
\nnot foreign to oneself, other than oneself, but are associates; the
\nmovements and activities of the body are not the main or sole
\nfeatures, they are only translations of a greater life that pulsates
\nwithin.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>All
\nForces are Life’s Retinue<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll forces are
\nLife\u2019s retinue in that world
And thought and body as her
\nhandmaids move. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife is the leading
\nPower, the ruling truth of this world. All other forces that operate
\nhere are subsidiary to Life. The body and the mind which dominate
\nover life in the material world, are here her understudies; they
\nfollow and serve Life who is the master.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Universal
\nWideness<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe universal
\nwidenesses give her room:
All feel the cosmic movement in their
\nacts
And are the instruments of her cosmic might. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOr their own self
\nthey make their universe. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere the distinction
\nbetween the individual movement and the universal is very slender.
\nEach individual being feels the play of the cosmic force in its
\nmovements. Everywhere the sweep of Life is unbounded. All function as
\nchannels of her flow and instruments of her workings. Each one
\nembraces the whole.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Image
\nof a Crown<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn all who have
\nrisen to a greater Life
A voice of unborn things whispers to the
\near,
To their eyes visited by some high sunlight
Aspiration
\nshows the image of a crown:
To work out a seed that she has
\nthrown within,
To achieve her power in them her creatures live.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWhoever comes under
\nthe dominion of this greater Life awakes to greater inspirations and
\nbrighter illuminations. Creative urges communicate themselves; a
\nliving aspiration pulls high goals to reveal themselves. All live and
\nstrive to fulfil the purpose of this Life in them, to embody and
\nmanifest her glory.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Growing
\nGreatness<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEach is a greatness
\ngrowing towards the heights
Or from his inner centre oceans out;
\n
In circling ripples of concentric power
They swallow,
\nglutted, their environment. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEach being is under
\npressure to expand, grow upwards to greater and still greater heights
\nor to enlarge itself wider and still wider. This movement of
\nself-enlargement spreads over larger and larger areas till it engulfs
\nthe entire environment. Each expansion proceeds in bigger and bigger
\ncircles but always from one truth-centre.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Small
\nGreatness<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven of that
\nlargeness many a cabin make;
In narrower breadths and briefer
\nvistas pent
They live content with some small greatness won.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven here there are
\nmany who shut themselves in the expansion they have arrived at. They
\ndo not keep on progressing. They limit their field and stay contented
\nwith the comparative greatness they have achieved.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nUnless one goes on
\nprogressing more and more, the progress achieved itself becomes a
\nlimitation, an impediment.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Rulers
\nof Little Empires<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTo rule the little
\nempire of themselves,
To be a figure in their private world
And
\nmake the milieu\u2019s joys and griefs their own
And satisfy their
\nlife-motives and life-wants
Is charge enough and office for this
\nstrength,
A steward of the Person and his fate. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSuch beings who
\nlimit themselves to their existing states are satisfied with their
\nlittle kingdoms in which they can play the king. They identify
\nthemselves with the joys and griefs of their environments and exert
\nto fulfil their life-needs. They function in the strength given to
\nthem as managers for the real Person for whose emergence the
\nconditions are not yet ready.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Transition-Line
\ninto Heavenliness<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis was
\ntransition-line and starting-point,
A first immigration into
\nheavenliness,
For all who cross into that brilliant sphere:
\n
These are the kinsmen of our earthly race;
This region
\nborders on our mortal state. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis world of
\ngreater Life, above the borders of our mortal world, is the line of
\ntransition and the starting-point for entry into the brighter heavens
\nbeyond. Its denizens are not totally foreign to our race on earth; in
\nsome way they are our kinsmen.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Source
\nof our Greater Movements<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis wider world our
\ngreater movements gives,
Its strong formations build our growing
\nselves;
Its creatures are our brighter replicas,
Complete the
\ntypes we only initiate
And are securely what we strive to be.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFrom this wide world
\nof greater Life flow the impulsions that motivate great movements on
\nearth. Man’s growth on earth is shaped by formative actions from
\nthere. The originals of the things men seek to build in the material
\nworld are there in this Life-world, actual, living. What is begun in
\nthe physical world is there complete in the Life-world.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>They
\nFollow the Leader in the Heart<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs if thought-out
\neternal characters,
Entire, not pulled as we by contrary tides,
\n
They follow the unseen leader in the heart,
Their lives obey
\nthe inner nature\u2019s law. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBeings here in the
\ngreater Life-world are not pulled about in contrary directions as
\nhumans are in their world below. They are not incomplete, not subject
\nto alien controls. They are full, self-assured, pre-designed, as it
\nwere, and they follow their guide within, act according to the law of
\ntheir inner nature, svabhava.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>The
\nTrue and False Join Battle<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is kept
\ngrandeur\u2019s store, the hero\u2019s mould;
The soul is the watchful
\nbuilder of its fate;
None is a spirit indifferent and inert;
\n
They choose their side, they see the god they adore. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA battle is joined
\nbetween the true and false,
A pilgrimage sets out to the divine
\nLight. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThose who are of
\nthis Life-world that is full of grandeur are cast in the mould of
\nheroes. The soul within them is not a mere witness, unmoving and
\nunmoved; it participates in the destiny that is being forged and
\ndetermines the issue. Beings here are wide awake and choose their
\nhost\u2014gods or titans. For here the battle is acutely fought between
\nthe gods who form the army of truth and the titans and their brood
\nwho oppose with their falsehood.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe whole procession
\nof this Life-pageant is a journey to the Light Divine.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Even
\nIgnorance Aspires to Know<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFor even Ignorance
\nthere aspires to know
And shines with the lustre of a distant
\nstar;
There is a knowledge in the heart of sleep
And Nature
\ncomes to them as a conscious force. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll here move
\nupward. Even Ignorance is not content to remain what it is, but seeks
\nto acquire Knowledge; its aspiration draws upon its visage a glow of
\nthe Knowledge-Light far above. Even in the swoon of sleep there is a
\nwaking Knowledge. Nature is not a mechanical energy but a conscious
\nforce.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>An
\nIdeal is Their Leader<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAn ideal is their
\nleader and their king:
Aspiring to the monarchy of the sun
They
\ncall in Truth for their high government,
Hold her incarnate in
\ntheir daily acts
And fill their thoughts with her inspired voice
\n
And shape their lives into her breathing form,
Till in her
\nsun-gold godhead they too share. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe beings here have
\ntheir own ideals which they seek to realise. They aspire for Truth
\nand strive to govern their lives in accordance with it; their actions
\nembody the spirit of the Truth sought for, their thoughts are
\ninspired by it, their lives are moulded in its figure. Thus they seek
\nto grow into the divinity of Truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Warriors
\nAll<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOr to the truth of
\nDarkness they subscribe;
Whether for Heaven or Hell they must
\nwage war:
Warriors of Good, they serve a shining cause
Or are
\nEvil\u2019s soldiers in the pay of Sin. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nNot all of these
\nvital beings, however, work for the Ideal of the Divine Truth, of
\nLight. There are also those who choose the Ideal of Falsehood, of
\nDarkness. Both kinds serve their respective Ideals with passion and
\nintensity for that is their nature.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe vital being is a
\nwarrior by nature and whether it puts itself on the side of Good or
\nof Evil, it is an ardent combatant.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Good
\nand Evil<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFor evil and good an
\nequal tenure keep
Wherever Knowledge is Ignorance\u2019s twin.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBoth the Good and
\nits opposite the Evil exist here with equal dominion. Both thrive and
\nfight with each other on equal terms.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWherever Knowledge
\nis not supreme and not the sole power but is accompanied by Ignorance
\nto whatever degree, there is bound to be this dual phenomenon of good
\nand evil. Evil proceeds from ignorance as good ensues from knowledge.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Each
\nPower Builds its Temple<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll powers of Life
\ntowards their godhead tend
In the wideness and the daring of that
\nair,
Each builds its temple and expands its cult,
And Sin too
\nthere is a divinity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn this Life-World,
\nall powers have freedom to develop to their utmost, to speed to their
\nabsolutes. The field is vast and adventure is natural. Each power
\nbuilds its own empire and expands its sway. Even Sin has her own rule
\nand holds the allegiance of her adherents.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Sin
\n(I)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAffirming the beauty
\nand splendour of her law
She claims life as her natural domain,
\n
Assumes the world\u2019s throne or dons the papal robe:
Her
\nworshippers proclaim her sacred right. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSin claims the whole
\nof the Life-realm as her rightful domain. She tries to establish her
\nlaw\u2014bright and beautiful as it appears to her and her host\u2014all
\nover the world. She assumes the role of the high-priest and her right
\nto preach her gospel is blazoned by her retinue.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Sin
\n(II)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA red-tiaraed
\nfalsehood they revere,
Worship the shadow of a crooked god,
\n
Admit the black Idea that twists the brain
Or lie with the
\nharlot Power that slays the Soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHer crown of regalia
\nis Falsehood. Those who worship her pay homage to this Falsehood,
\ncherish crookedness that is the shadow of sin, admit in their minds
\ndark untruth in the form of the Idea which twists the brain by its
\ncrookedness, cherish and indulge in unholy power that corrupts and
\nveils their soul.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFalsehood,
\ncrookedness, wrong thinking, wrong actions, all lead to destruction,
\nstep by step.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Titan
\nPassion and Idol of Power<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA mastering virtue
\nstatuesques the pose,
Or a titan passion goads to a proud unrest:
\n
At Wisdom\u2019s altar they are kings and priests
Or their life
\na sacrifice to an idol of Power. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSome stay put in a
\nvirtue that dominates their life; they do not move further. Some are
\nseized with a powerful passion which always keeps them in a ferment
\nof restlessness. Even in the precincts of wisdom some are too proud
\nof their kingship or sacerdocy to benefit by her. Some pour out their
\nlives in service of a feigned godhead of Power.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Beauty
\nand Joy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOr Beauty shines on
\nthem like a wandering star;
Too far to reach, passionate they
\nfollow her light;
In Art and Life they catch the All-Beautiful\u2019s
\nray
And make the world their radiant treasure house:
Even
\ncommon figures are with marvel robed;
A charm and greatness
\nlocked in every hour
Awakes the joy which sleeps in all things
\nmade. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSome of these beings
\nof greater Life are attracted by the Ideal of Beauty and they strive
\nwith passion to embody it in their lives. They grasp something of the
\nBeauty aspect of the Supreme, sundaram, and express it in their
\nworld. Doing so they ennoble even common things and bring into
\nexistence a brilliant and wonderful creation. This presence and
\nconstant action of the truth of Beauty draws out the joy which is
\nconcealed in all forms and movements in Creation. For in all things
\nthere is a joy, a delight of creation, \u0101nanda, originating them,
\nsustaining them\u2014whether it is manifest on the surface or lies
\nhidden within waiting for conditions to be ready for its overt
\nplay.Beauty is the mould of Delight and where there is beauty there
\nis the flow of delight.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Dual
\nEnergy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA mighty victory or
\na mighty fall,
A throne in heaven or a pit in hell,
The dual
\nEnergy they have justified
And marked their souls with her
\ntremendous seal:
Whatever Fate may do to them they have earned;
\n
Something they have done, something they have been, they live.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe vital beings in
\nthis plane of Life drive to the extreme either way, and either
\nachieve great victories and win thrones of glory or suffer heavy
\ndefeats and fall into pits of darkness and suffering. In them is seen
\nthe glaring contrasts of the results of the twin-faced Energy at work
\nwhich turns at one end upwards to Good and at the other downwards to
\nEvil.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll that they enjoy
\nor suffer is the result of their own doings. Fate is their own
\ncreation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Contrary
\nBalance<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere Matter is
\nsoul\u2019s result and not its cause. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn a contrary
\nbalance to earth\u2019s truth of things
The gross weighs less, the
\nsubtle counts for more;
On inner values hangs the outer plan.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn this Life-world
\nthe balance of things is quite different from that which obtains on
\nthe physical plane. The soul is not the product of Matter as it
\nappears to be in the physical world, but the cause which creates
\nMatter. The soul is anterior. Similarly the subtle is of greater
\nconsequence here than the gross, whereas on the earth things have
\nlittle value unless they have a gross expression palpable to the
\ngross senses. All in this Life-world is determined by its inner
\nsignificance. According to the inner intention and design, the outer
\npattern forms itself. The inner is the cause; the outer is the
\nresult.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Some
\nInterior Might<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs quivers with the
\nthought the expressive word,
As yearns the act with the passion
\nof the soul
This world\u2019s apparent sensible design
Looks
\nvibrant back to some interior might. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nJust as the complete
\nword\u2014the word which fully expresses its content\u2014is astir with the
\nthought that is formulating itself in it and just as right action
\nmoves on the impulsion of the soul within, so the perceptible design
\nof this Life-world strongly points to some great Power preparing
\nwithin.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Impacts
\nwithout Sense Channels<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA Mind not limited
\nby external sense
Gave figures to the spirit\u2019s imponderables,
\n
The world\u2019s impacts without channels registered
And turned
\ninto the body\u2019s concrete thrill
The vivid workings of a
\nbodiless Force; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe physical mind is
\nlimited by the nature of its instruments, the gross senses, which
\ntake cognisance only of gross objects. But the mind in this vital
\nworld is not so limited; it cognises and gives shape to the subtler
\nformulations of the spirit that are beyond the scope of the physical
\nmind. The contacts of the world impinge directly upon the being
\nwithout the need of sense-channels\u2014and evoke responsive sensations
\nof thrill. The workings from without of the subtle Force which is not
\nembodied in any form are immediately converted into concrete bodily
\nsensations.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Subliminal
\nPowers Come Out<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nPowers here
\nsubliminal that act unseen
Or in ambush crouch waiting behind the
\nwall
Came out in front uncovering their face. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe forces that act
\non earth are not all of them patent to the eye. Some of them are
\nstationed in and always act from unseen regions like the subliminal.
\nWe know of them only from their results. At times they leap into
\naction unexpectedly and take us by surprise. Such forces come out
\ninto the open in this vital world, and function in full view.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>The
\nOccult and the Obvious Meet<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe occult grew
\nthere overt, the obvious kept
A covert turn and shouldered the
\nunknown;
The unseen was felt and jostled visible shapes.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWhat is hidden and
\nacts from behind the veil on earth stands revealed here in this vital
\nworld. And what is considered open and obvious on earth shows here a
\nside that is still concealed and touches the Unknown. In between the
\nseen and visible forms, one feels here the presence of the Unseen.The
\nseen and the unseen meet in this vital world.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Communion
\nof Minds and Hearts<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the communion of
\ntwo meeting minds
Thought looked at thought and had no need of
\nspeech;
Emotion clasped emotion in two hearts,
They felt each
\nother\u2019s thrill in the flesh and nerves
Or melted each in each
\nand grew immense
As when two houses burn and fire joins fire:
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nUnlike as in the
\nphysical world on earth, here in the vital world, there is no need of
\nspeech for the communication of thought; mind meets mind directly. So
\nalso with emotions. When two hearts come together, there is a
\nspontaneous commingling of their emotions and both expand and merge
\ninto each other becoming one. There is no need of outer expression of
\ntheir respective emotions to form a bridge between them.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Hate
\nGrapples Hate<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHate grappled hate
\nand love broke in on love,
Will wrestled with will on mind\u2019s
\ninvisible ground; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn this free
\ninterchange on the subtler levels there is friction and combat too.
\nHatred from one meets the hatred of another and there is struggle. So
\nalso takes place the engulfing of love by love, the assertion of will
\nagainst will.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Impact
\nof Others’ Sensations Grief and Joy Invade<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOne felt another\u2019s
\ngrief invade the breast,
Another\u2019s joy exulting ran through the
\nblood:
Hearts could draw close through distance, voices near
\n
That spoke upon the shore of alien seas. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe grief of one is
\nfelt by another; one suffers with others. The joy of one thrills
\nanother; one delights with others. Distance is of no consequence.
\nHearts commune with each other and speech is heard irrespective of
\nthe distance in between.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nLiving Interchange<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere beat a throb
\nof living interchange:
Being felt being even when afar
And
\nconsciousness replied to consciousness. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThus there is a
\nvibrant and constant interchange everywhere in this world of higher
\nLife. Each one is not only aware of others, near or far, there is
\nalso a spontaneous response of the consciousness to other
\nconsciousnesses.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Oneness
\nnot Yet<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAnd yet the ultimate
\noneness was not there. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere was a
\nseparateness of soul from soul:
An inner wall of silence could be
\nbuilt,
An armour of conscious might protect and shield;
The
\nbeing could be closed in and solitary;
One could remain apart in
\nself, alone. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIdentity was not yet
\nnor union\u2019s peace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut with all this
\nliving interchange, there is not yet oneness. Soul continues to be
\ndivided from soul. It is possible for the soul to erect an unseen
\nwall of no response between itself and others and stay aloof,
\nprotecting itself from their impacts by a conscious will. One can
\nlive apart, alone in oneself. The natural identity of oneness or the
\npeace of perfect union is not yet.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Still
\nImperfect<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll was imperfect
\nstill, half-known, half-done:
The miracle of Inconscience
\noverpassed,
The miracle of the Superconscient still
Unknown,
\nself-wrapped, unfelt, unknowable,
Looked down on them, origin of
\nall they were. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThings are still in
\nthe intermediate stage, the progress of evolving Nature is still
\nincomplete; there is much to be known yet, much to be done. The
\nmystery of Inconscience below has indeed been unravelled, but the
\nmystery of the Superconscient above is still to be unveiled. It is
\nyet to be known and experienced. It is there looming on those worlds
\nof Life from above; it is in fact the real source of their existence.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Forms
\nand Names<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs forms they came
\nof the formless Infinite,
As names lived of a nameless Eternity.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAbove is the
\nInfinite, the Eternal. It has no form, but out of that formless Being
\nhave issued all these forms; the Formless assumes forms. It has no
\nmark, no name to determine and signify its character, but out of that
\nnameless Being have appeared all these names; the Nameless emerges
\ninto names.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Real in itself
\nis formless and nameless. But forms and names are not on that account
\nunreal; for they too are self-determinations of the Real.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nMiddle Term<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe beginning and
\nthe end were there occult;
A middle term worked unexplained,
\nabrupt:
They were words that spoke to a vast wordless Truth,
\n
They were figures crowding an unfinished sum. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis Life-world
\nrepresents the middle stage of a long way whose beginning and end,
\nstart and finish, are not perceivable here. Looked at in itself it
\nappears abrupt and leaves much to be explained. All here is in the
\nnature of words trying to commune with a Truth that is beyond words,
\nfigures strewn about in the process of working out a sum. There is
\nplenty but it is all unfinished.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>None
\nTruly Knows<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nNone truly knew
\nhimself or knew the world
Or the Reality living there enshrined:
\n
Only they knew what Mind could take and build
Out of the
\nsecret Supermind\u2019s huge store. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nNone of the beings
\nhere knows the truth of himself or of the world of his habitation,
\nmuch less of the Reality that is embedded in this Creation. His
\nknowl’edge is incomplete, not deep and full enough to grasp the
\ntruth. It ranges only to that part which is formulated by the Mind
\nfrom out of the rich store of the Supermind above which is still
\nveiled.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Mind is only a
\nselective power of the Supermind.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Mystery
\nand Riddle<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBy mysteries they
\nexplained a Mystery,
A riddling answer met the riddle of things.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBelow, the denizens
\nof this Life-world perceive an outspread darkness of Ignorance and
\nNescience. Above, they face a luminous Vast which they cannot fathom.
\nIn their own expanding and rising world nothing is certain. It is a
\nMystery on either side and all their attempts to solve it land them
\ninto more mysteries. Each riddle of life evokes a further riddle.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Aswapathy
\nSees all as Symbols<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs he moved in this
\nether of ambiguous life,
Himself he grew a riddle to himself;
As
\nsymbols he saw all and sought their sense. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs Aswapathy moves
\nin this Life-world of uncertainty, he finds that he has become a
\nriddle to himself. HE too is overcome by the prevailing uncertainty
\nand mystery. He regards all forms and movements herE as symbolic and
\nseeks to read through them the truth they signify<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Perilous
\nAdventure<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAcross the leaping
\nsprings of death and birth
And over shifting borders of
\nsoul-change,
A hunter on the Spirit\u2019s creative track,
He
\nfollowed in life\u2019s fine and mighty trails
Pursuing her sealed
\nformidable delight
In a perilous adventure without close.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEager to know the
\ncourse of the creative Spirit, Aswapathy follows the great and subtle
\npaths taken by Life across the phenomena of birth and death, through
\nthe changing fields of the Soul; he is led on by the concealed but
\nunmistakable delight in the breath of Life and pursues his daring and
\nendless venture.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Towards
\nMarvel and Discovery<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAt first no aim
\nappeared in these large steps:
Only the wide source he saw of all
\nthings here
Looking towards a wider source beyond. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFor as she drew away
\nfrom earthly lines,
A tenser drag was felt from the Unknown,
A
\nhigher context of delivering thought
Drove her towards marvel and
\ndiscovery; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the earlier
\nstages Aswapathy does not espy any definite aim in Life’s course. He
\nsees only a wide and high source of all things pointing upwards to a
\nstill higher source. As Life draws away from the lowly belts of
\nmaterial earth, the pull upwards from the regions that are yet
\nunknown becomes more and more pronounced; a higher and liberative
\nprospect of the Mind above spreads her course towards new vistas of
\nwonder and surprise.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nGreater Scene<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere came a high
\nrelease from pettier cares,
A mightier image of desire and hope,
\n
A vaster formula, a greater scene. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe petty round of
\nlittle cares and anxieties that holds life captive on the lower
\nlevels of the vital is passed. Here opens the empire of mighty hopes
\nand desires, larger perspectives and processes, a far greater field.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSmall desires and
\npetty cares are the natural movements of the lower vital; those of
\nthe higher vital have a far larger and higher range.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>But
\nTied to the Immediate<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEver she circled
\ntowards some far-off Light:
Her signs still covered more than
\nthey revealed;
But tied to some immediate sight and will
They
\nlost their purport in the joy of use,
Till stripped of their
\ninfinite meaning they became
A cipher gleaming with unreal sense.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis mighty movement
\nof Life turns in circles and larger circles but at the same time it
\nadvances towards a distant Light that is glimpsed. Though the forms
\nand movements of this Life reveal their purpose somewhat, much
\nremains concealed still. They are all preoccupied in their immediate
\neffort, lost in the enjoyment of the hour and their real significance
\nrecedes. Their value as indices of an infinity at work becomes
\npractically nil and their appearance is illusive.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Invisible
\nTarget<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nArmed with a magical
\nand haunted bow
She aimed at a target kept invisible
And ever
\ndeemed remote though always near. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife here is
\npossessed of a wonder-working Power and she is impelled to rush
\nforward even when the prospect is not clear. In the very intensity of
\nher effort she fails to see that the truth she seeks afar is all the
\nwhile close by her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>He
\nScans her Tangled Designs<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs one who spells
\nillumined characters,
The key-book of a crabbed magician text,
\n
He scanned her subtle tangled weird designs
And the screened
\ndifficult theorem of her clues,
Traced in the monstrous sands of
\ndesert Time
The thread beginnings of her titan works, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy
\nlaboriously scans the intricate patterns of the movements of Life,
\nfollows the clues that he is able to catch and traces the beginnings
\nof those that have developed into gigantic proportions.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>He
\nWatches her Action<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWatched her charade
\nof action for some hint,
Read the No-gestures of her silhouettes,
\n
And strove to capture in their burdened drift
The
\ndance-fantasia of her sequences
Escaping into rhythmic mystery,
\n
A glimmer of fugitive feet on fleeing soil. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe watches closely
\nher complicated movements to catch some hint, notes the symbolic
\ngestures of the fleeting figures in her high drama of music and
\ndance, as it were, strives to perceive the design in her fanciful
\nsequences of developing rhythms and follows her disappearing trail on
\nreceding grounds.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>He
\nLoses its Signs<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the labyrinth
\npattern of her thoughts and hopes
And the byways of her intimate
\ndesires,
In the complex corners crowded with her dreams
And
\nrounds crossed by an intrigue of irrelevant rounds,
A wanderer
\nstraying amid fugitive scenes
He lost its signs and chased each
\nfailing guess. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEver he met
\nkey-words, ignorant of their key. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHowever, the
\nmovements of Life are so complex, so profusely crowded and
\nintricately patterned what with her thoughts, hopes, secret desires,
\ndreams\u2014that Aswapathy is lost in bewilderment. He loses hold of the
\nguiding clues and follows guessing, only to find that each guess
\nfails to come true. He comes across solutions but they are in code
\nand he does not have the key to decipher them.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Sun
\nand Stars<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA sun that dazzled
\nits own eye of sight,
A luminous enigma\u2019s brilliant hood
Lit
\nthe dense purple barrier of thought\u2019s sky:
A dim large trance
\nshowed to the night her stars. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe upper limits of
\nthought’s horizons are lit up by a dazzling and enigmatic lustre.
\nThought cannot cope with it. In the silent, dimly showing skies of
\nthe night, twinkle the stars.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe hberative and
\nguiding Light is seen on the summits.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>He
\nReads by Lightning-Flashes<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs if sitting near
\nan open window\u2019s gap,
He read by lightning-flash on crowding
\nflash
Chapters of her metaphysical romance
Of the soul\u2019s
\nsearch for lost Reality
And her fictions drawn from spirit\u2019s
\nauthentic fact,
Her caprices and conceits and meanings locked,
\n
Her rash unseizable freaks and mysteried turns. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy is helped
\nby flashes of illumination descending upon him to view and grasp the
\nsignificance of all this mighty effort of Life. He sees in its
\nstrivings the attempt of the Soul to regain its identity with the
\nDivine Reality. If the forms and names built by Life are transitory
\nand therefore liable to be called fictitious, it is still a fiction
\nbased upon the Truth of the Spirit; even her unpredictable turns, her
\nswift and abrupt movements, her mysteries are meaningful episodes in
\nher enterprise.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>He
\nSees Through the Masks<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe magnificent
\nwrappings of her secrecy
That fold her desirable body out of
\nsight,
The strange significant forms woven on her robe,
Her
\nmeaningful outlines of the souls of things
He saw, her false
\ntransparencies of thought-hue,
Her rich brocades with imaged
\nfancies sewn
And mutable masks and broideries of disguise.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy is able to
\nobserve the various masks\u2014picturesque and splendid\u2014and the
\ndisguises behind which Life hides herself and her workings. He
\nglimpses into the truth of things through their forms which are
\nsignificant of their ensouling verities. He also perceives the
\nmisleading nature of appearances which the mind mistakes for
\nrealities.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Thousand
\nBaffling Faces of Truth<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA thousand baffling
\nfaces of the Truth
Looked at him from her forms with unknown eyes
\n
And wordless mouths unrecognisable,
Spoke from the figures of
\nher masquerade,
Or peered from the recondite magnificence
And
\nsubtle splendour of her draperies. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy becomes
\nsuddenly aware of the innumerable forms around him turning into so
\nmany bewildering faces of the Reality and looking at him; he becomes
\nconscious of the various symbols and masks coming alive with vivid
\nexpressions; he sees the gaze of the Truth through all her splendid
\nand magnificent garbs.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Sudden
\nScintillation<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn sudden
\nscintillations of the unknown,
Inexpressive sounds became
\nveridical,
Ideas that seemed unmeaning flashed out truth;
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\nUnder flashes of illumination the hitherto mute sounds turn into
\ncommunications of truth; ideas that had looked blank and lacking in
\nmeaning reveal their truth-contents in rapid glimpses.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Herald
\nof Voices and Figures<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nVoices that came
\nfrom unseen waiting worlds
Uttered the syllables of the
\nUnmanifest
To clothe the body of the mystic Word,
And wizard
\ndiagrams of the occult Law
Sealed some precise unreadable
\nharmony,
Or used hue and figure to reconstitute
The herald
\nblazon of Time\u2019s secret things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe creative Word,
\nthe Womb of the Cosmic rhythms, which carries the seed of
\nmanifestation from the vasts of the Unmanifest finds expression here.
\nLines and figures with occult significance secure firmly an exact
\nunderlying harmony; or they serve to re-form and proclaim the advent
\nof new truths to manifest.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Wings
\nof Her Songster Hopes<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn her green
\nwildernesses and lurking depths,
In her thickets of joy where
\ndanger clasps delight,
He glimpsed the hidden wings of her
\nsongster hopes,
A glimmer of blue and gold and scarlet fire.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe expanses of Life
\nare lush and vast with unexpected depressions here and there. There
\nare places where the joy of life is specially concentrated in its
\nplay with danger a circumstance that heightens the joy of adventure.
\nIn these Aswapathy glimpses the soaring flight of Life’s aspirations
\nin all their variegated hues.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Glow
\nof Her Fruits of Bliss<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn her covert lanes,
\nbordering her chance field-paths
And by her singing rivulets and
\ncalm lakes
He found the glow of her golden fruits of bliss
And
\nthe beauty of her flowers of dream and muse. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nNot all the paths of
\nher course are open and straight. There are hidden lanes and bylanes,
\nunexpected short-cuts; there are regions that are vibrant with joyous
\nmovements; there are spots where things are quiet and restful.
\nEverywhere Aswapathy finds the bright and rich yield of the bliss of
\nLife, the beauty of her dreams and musings.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Crimson
\nBurst of Secular Flower<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs if a miracle of
\nheart\u2019s change by joy
He watched in the alchemist radiance of
\nher suns
The crimson outburst of one secular flower
On the
\ntree of sacrifice of spiritual love. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven as an outburst
\nof joy alters the whole set-up and mood of one’s heart, the radiances
\nin the realm of greater Life effect such a miracle. Aswapathy watches
\nthe birth on the tree of Life of a passionate, deep red flower that
\nhas grown from the seed of the holocaust of the Spirit in its supreme
\nLove.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Laughter
\nof Rose Desires<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the sleepy
\nsplendour of her noons he saw,
A perpetual repetition through the
\nhours,
Thought\u2019s dance of dragon-flies on mystery\u2019s stream
\n
That skim but never test its murmurs\u2019 race,
And heard the
\nlaughter of her rose desires
Running as if to escape from
\nlonged-for hands,
Jingling sweet anklet-bells of fantasy.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy observes
\nthe repetitive movements of the Life-force which affirms herself and
\nmakes and remakes things till her object is achieved; he sees the
\ncomplex and indefinite thought movements that touch only the surfaces
\nof things and fail to probe into their depths which remain unknown;
\nhe hears the merry laughter of bright desires that shy away from
\ntheir objects as they draw near\u2014for they would cease to be in their
\nfruition.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nLife more Concrete<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAmidst live symbols
\nof her occult power
He moved and felt them as close real forms:
\n
In that life more concrete than the lives of men
Throbbed
\nheart-beats of the hidden reality:
Embodied was there what we but
\nthink and feel,
Self-framed what here takes outward borrowed
\nshapes. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn this realm of the
\nworkings of the Life-Power, symbols are not mere tokens or pointers.
\nThey vibrate with life and Aswapathy feels them to be real, vivid and
\nanimate forms. Though the concreteness of materiality is not here,
\nlife impinges more solidly than on earth. One feels here the living
\nvibrations of the Reality within. What men on earth can only feel or
\nthink, finds ready and just embodiment here. Forms here are shaped by
\ntheir ensouling truths unlike on earth where they are borrowed from
\nthe universal supply.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Comrade
\nof Silence<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA comrade of Silence
\non her austere heights
Accepted by her mighty loneliness,
He
\nstood with her on meditating peaks
Where life and being are a
\nsacrament
Offered to the Reality beyond,
And saw her loose
\ninto Infinity
Her hooded eagles of significance,
Messengers
\nof Thought to the Unknowable. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy attunes
\nhimself with the profound stillness of the silent summits of Life
\nwhere all flows in self-giving to the Transcendent Reality. He sees
\nher’ veiled and swift Knowledge-powers pass into the Unknowable, the
\nInfinite.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBeyond the finite is
\nthe Infinite; beyond the realm of Knowledge is the Unknowable.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Identified
\nto Learn the Secret<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIdentified in
\nsoul-vision and soul-sense,
Entering into her depths as into a
\nhouse,
All he became that she was or longed to be,
He thought
\nwith her thoughts and journeyed with her steps,
Lived with her
\nbreath and scanned all with her eyes
That he might learn the
\nsecret of her soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy desires to
\nknow the inmost truth that moves this greater Life. And for this
\npurpose he identifies himself with her inner sense and vision, dives
\ndeep into her profounds and becomes one with her existence and her
\naspirations; in thinking and in action, in living and in seeing, he
\nfunctions with the faculties natural to her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Witness
\nOvermastered<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA witness
\novermastered by his scene,
He admired her splendid front of pomp
\nand play
And the marvels of her rich and delicate craft,
And
\nthrilled to the insistence of her cry;
Impassioned he bore the
\nsorceries of her might,
Felt laid on him her abrupt mysterious
\nwill,
Her hands that knead fate in their violent grasp,
Her
\ntouch that moves, her powers that seize and drive. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe stays no more a
\nwitness that he was. He turns a captive-admirer of her dazzling
\nsplendour and wondrous play; he readily responds to her notes; he
\nexults in and upbears the displays of her strength. He is held by her
\nwill the meaning of which he knows not; her hands that forge destiny
\nclose on him; her initiating touches and dynamic impulsions pour upon
\nhim.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Her
\nSoul Weeps Within<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut this too he saw,
\nher soul that wept within,
Her seekings vain that clutch at
\nfleeing truth,
Her hopes whose sombre gaze mates with despair,
\n
The passion that possessed her longing limbs,
The trouble and
\nrapture of her yearning breasts,
Her mind that toils unsatisfied
\nwith its fruits,
Her heart that captures not the one Beloved.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy sees also
\nthe negative side of Life. He regards her soul within that is
\ndisappointed. Her seekings do not succeed in reaching the truth which
\nis their objective; her hopes are shadowed by despair; the intensity
\nthat fills her restless being, the desire that agitates her are
\nunceasing; her mind is never satisfied with the meagre results of its
\nworkings; her heart does not succeed in meeting and clasping the
\nDivine Beloved it seeks.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>An
\nExiled Goddess<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAlways he met a
\nveiled and seeking Force,
An exiled goddess building mimic
\nheavens,
A Sphinx whose eyes look up to a hidden Sun. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWherever he turns,
\nAswapathy feels her Force that is constantly asearch though
\nconcealed. What she builds looks like an attempted imitation of a
\nremembered heaven by a goddess who has been thrust out from it. She
\nis a mystery whose gaze is fixed on a light that is not patent to the
\neye.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Spirit
\nthe Key<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEver he felt near a
\nspirit in her forms:
Its passive presence was her nature\u2019s
\nstrength;
This sole is real in apparent things,
Even upon
\nearth the spirit is life\u2019s key,
But her solid outsides nowhere
\nbear its trace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll the same,
\nAswapathy feels the presence of a spirit in the forms of Life. This
\nspirit, though it is not active but present only as a passive
\nwitness, is the real strength of the Life-Power.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis is so not only
\non the Life-planes but even upon Earth, the field of Matter. Whatever
\nthe appearance, the truth lies within in the indwelling spirit; that
\nexplains all outer movements in life. The inner is the real and
\npermanent, the outer is the result and impermanent. However, in the
\nmaterial world the gross form effectively veils the ensouling
\ndeterminant.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Hint
\nof Veiled Reality<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIts stamp on her
\nacts is undiscoverable. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA pathos of lost
\nheights is its appeal. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOnly sometimes is
\ncaught a shadowy line
That seems a hint of veiled reality.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe movements of
\nlife on earth hardly testify to the presence of this spirit within.
\nBut the persistence of aspiration for the heights of the Spirit
\npoints to the existence of this spark inside; it makes itself felt
\nthrough this longing. Rarely does its presence reveal itself in outer
\nlife-activities; only occasionally is there a vague hint of the
\nreality inside.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Confused
\nOutlines<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife stared at him
\nwith vague confused outlines
Offering a picture the eyes could
\nnot keep,
A story that was yet not written there. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs in a fragmentary
\nhalf-lost design
Life\u2019s meanings fled from the pursuing eye.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy is unable
\nto get a clear picture of life. She is vague in form and her workings
\ndo not yet reveal a pattern. Things seem to be only partly done;
\ntheir meaning escapes his sight.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Life’s
\nReal Self Hidden<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife\u2019s visage
\nhides life\u2019s real self from sight;
Life\u2019s secret sense is
\nwritten within, above. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe thought that
\ngives it sense lives far beyond;
It is not seen in its
\nhalf-finished design. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn vain we hope to
\nread the baffling signs
Or find the word of the half-played
\ncharade. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe real meaning of
\nlife lies hidden by her changing appearances. That truth is concealed
\nwithin and above her. The Idea that inspires Life lies beyond the
\nLife-plane. It cannot be read in Life’s half-completed creations.
\nHuman attempts to catch the significance through the bewildering
\nmasks of her workings, to arrive at her truth through the clues
\nafforded by the incomplete play prove futile.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Cryptic
\nThought in Greater Life<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOnly in that greater
\nlife a cryptic thought
Is found, is hinted some interpreting word
\n
That makes the earth-myth a tale intelligible. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSome secret clue,
\nsome half-revealed idea, however, is found on the planes of the
\ngreater Life. In the light of that pregnant idea-form, the activity
\nof life on earth takes on some meaning.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nHalf-Blind Chained Divinity<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSomething was seen
\nat last that looked like truth. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn a half-lit air of
\nhazardous mystery
The eye that looks at the dark half of truth
\n
Made out an image mid a vivid blur
And peering through a mist
\nof subtle tints
He saw a half-blind chained divinity
Bewildered
\nby the world in which he moved,
Yet conscious of some light
\nprompting his soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nGazing at the scene
\nwhich is only the dark half of the truth\u2014Aswapathy alights upon a
\nseeming truth. In that atmosphere, dim, dangerous and mysterious,
\nconfused but led by an inner light, he espies across the haze of
\nmelting colours, a half-blind divinity in chains. The divine Spirit
\nthat ensouls this world is only half-awake; its sight is not yet
\nfully open; it is bound to the formula of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>He
\nSeeks his Way Towards Infinitude<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAttracted to strange
\nfar-off shimmerings,
Led by the fluting of a distant Player
He
\nsought his way amid life\u2019s laughter and call
And the index
\nchaos of her myriad steps
Towards some total deep infinitude.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe hears divine
\nnotes calling him from afar; bright glows of light beckon to him. He
\nmakes his way forward through all the mirth and urge of Life,
\nfollowing her innumerable chaotic steps which, for all their
\nconfusing appearance, point to a significant goal,\u2014towards some
\nprofound infinitude beyond.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Reads
\nby Arrow-Leaps of Thought<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAround crowded the
\nforest of her signs:
At hazard he read by arrow-leaps of Thought
\n
That hit the mark by guess or luminous chance,
Her changing
\ncoloured road-lights of idea
And her signals of uncertain swift
\nevent,
The hieroglyphs of her symbol pageantries
And her
\nlandmarks in the tangled paths of Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHis passage is
\ncrowded with signs and pointers whose meaning is not clear. Reasoning
\nand logic fail him. He lets his thought intuit and whether by guess
\nor by some higher light appearing as chance, he is able to understand
\nand follow the layout of this domain with all its play of leading
\nideas, tentative movements, significant shows and definitive
\ndemarcations in the medley of paths.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Play
\nof Life and Spirit (I)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn her mazes of
\napproach and of retreat
To every side she draws him and repels,
\n
But drawn too near escapes from his embrace;
All ways she
\nleads him but no way is sure. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife plays, as it
\nwere, hide and seek with the Spirit. She appears to come near to the
\nSpirit but escapes his hold. Life and Spirit are ever on the move,
\nLife leading and the Spirit following.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Play
\nof Life and Spirit (II)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAllured by the
\nmany-toned marvel of her chant,
Attracted by the witchcraft of
\nher moods
And moved by her casual touch to joy and grief,
He
\nloses himself in her but wins her not. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Spirit is held
\ncaptive by the rhythm of Life’s movements. He is fascinated by her
\nrapidly changing moods. He reacts with joy or grief to her touches
\nhowever casual. He is completely lost in her but cannot possess her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Play
\nof Life and Spirit (III)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA fugitive paradise
\nsmiles at him from her eyes:
He dreams of her beauty made for
\never his,
He dreams of his mastery her limbs shall bear,
He
\ndreams of the magic of her breasts of bliss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe pursues enchanted
\nthe elusive promise of paradise in her eyes and dreams of mastering
\nher and possessing her form of beauty. He is lost in the thought of
\nthe rapture that awaits him.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Play
\nof Life and Spirit (IV)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn her illumined
\nscript, her fanciful
Translation of God\u2019s pure original text,
\n
He thinks to read the Scripture Wonderful,
Hieratic key to
\nunknown beatitudes. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut the Word of Life
\nis hidden in its script,
The chant of Life has lost its divine
\nnote. <\/FONT><\/FONT>
\nThe Spirit-mate of Life hopes to divine the supreme knowledge in the
\ntranscript made by Life of the original Intention and thereby find
\nthe key to the Bliss of the Infinite. But that script, however bright
\nand attractive, is a product of her fancy. The real Word lies covered
\nunder her picturesque rendering. The divine sound-vibration, n\u0101da,
\nthat marked the birth of Life is no more to be found in the ode sung
\nby her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Play
\nof Life and Spirit (V)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nUnseen, a captive in
\na house of sound,
The spirit lost in the splendour of a dream
\n
Listens to a thousand-voiced illusion\u2019s ode. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Spirit is shut
\nwithin the walls of sound, forgetting himself in the picturesque
\nimagery of his dream. The notes that he listens to are those sounded
\nby the multi-toned and illusive play of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Soul
\nis Missed<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA delicate weft of
\nsorcery steals the heart
Or a fiery magic tints her tones and
\nhues,
Yet they but wake a thrill of transient grace;
A
\nvagrant march struck by the wanderer Time
They call to a brief
\nunsatisfied delight
Or wallow in ravishments of mind and sense,
\n
But miss the luminous answer of the soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe play of Life is
\nenchanting in the pattern she weaves, in the spell of her notes and
\nthe scintillations of her bright colours, but the delight it produces
\nis temporary. It palls after a time or one is lost in the enjoyment
\nof the senses and the sense-mind. In either case the response of the
\ninner soul is not given. The pageant reveals itself as aimless.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Heavenward
\nClimbings<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA blind heart-throb
\nthat reaches joy through tears,
A yearning towards peaks for ever
\nunreached,
An ecstasy of unfulfilled desire
Track the last
\nheavenward climbings of her voice. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHer great soarings
\nto the infinities above take place on the wings of an irresistible
\nimpulsion from within to win joy through whatever suffering it might
\nentail. She is moved by a spirit of adventure to scale the
\nunconquered peaks, by an anticipatory thrill that accompanies the
\neffort to reach the object of her desire.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Past
\nSufferings Transmuted<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTransmuted are past
\nsuffering\u2019s memories
Into an old sadness\u2019s sweet escaping
\ntrail:
Turned are her tears to gems of diamond pain,
Her
\nsorrow into a magic crown of song. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the procession of
\nLife, sufferings are quickly forgotten; they pass into memories which
\nwhen recalled strike only a momentary sad note, sweet and fleeting_
\nThe tears that are shed in the struggle of Life are preserved in
\nprecious lessons of experience. Sorrows undergone become themes for
\ninspiring ballads.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Snatches
\nof Felicity too Brief<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBrief are her
\nsnatches of felicity
That touch the surface, then escape or die:
\n
A lost remembrance echoes in her depths,
A deathless longing
\nis hers, a veiled self\u2019s call;
A prisoner in the mortal\u2019s
\nlimiting world,
A spirit wounded by life sobs in her breast;
A
\ncherished suffering is her deepest cry. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere are brief
\nintervals of happiness when some felicity from within wells up, but
\nit soon passes or is smothered by the stresses and griefs of life.
\nThere is somewhere in the profounds of Life a memory of her original
\nimmortality and she longs for it, in some form or other, constantly.
\nThe divine entity within calls her to her innate status. This soul
\nwithin\u2014deathless and boundless by nature\u2014is encased in her
\nmortal, limited embodiment and subjected to the bitter experiences of
\nLife. She is aware of this suffering of her soul and her deepest
\narticulations are poignant with its pain. And, in a way, Life values
\nthis suffering in her breast for it keeps fresh the awareness of her
\nensouling truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Cry
\nfor Forgotten Bliss<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA wanderer on
\nforlorn despairing routes,
Along the roads of sound a frustrate
\nvoice
Forsaken cries to a forgotten bliss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Life-being has
\nfallen from its original state of bliss and some memory of it drives
\nit to regain that bliss. It strives for this in varied movements, but
\nfinds itself doomed to disappointment and cries out in despair.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Hunting
\nfor Pleasure<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAstray in the echo
\ncaverns of Desire,
It guards the phantoms of a soul\u2019s dead
\nhopes
And keeps alive the voice of perished things
Or lingers
\nupon sweet and errant notes
Hunting for pleasure in the heart of
\npain. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Life-being is
\nlost in the proliferating terrains of Desire; even when hopes are
\nfrustrated and dead, it keeps their memory alive. It follows
\nenchanting and false calls in its search for joy and pleasure in the
\nmidst of prevailing grief and pain.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nDesire eggs on the
\nLife-being to a fruitless venture.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Inner
\nMusic Covered<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA fateful hand has
\ntouched the cosmic chords
And the intrusion of a troubled strain
\n
Covers the inner music\u2019s hidden key
That guides unheard the
\nsurface cadences. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSome dire and
\ndecisive touch has set astir all this cosmic motion. This disturbance
\nhas brought in an element which effectively conceals the rhythm of
\nthings whose unheard beat gives meaning to the outer movements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Joy
\nto Live and to Create<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nYet is it joy to
\nlive and to create
And joy to love and labour though all fails,
\n
And joy to seek though all we find deceives
And all on which
\nwe lean betrays our trust;
Yet something in its depths was worth
\nthe pain,
A passionate memory haunts with ecstasy\u2019s fire.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn spite of all the
\npains and shocks, there is a joy in living, in striving, in creating,
\nin loving. Maybe all effort fails in the end, objects of desire
\ndisappoint when acquired at long last and trust is betrayed
\nconstantly; but truly all has not been in vain. There is some deeper
\npurpose that justifies all the apparently useless effort and
\nhardship. The strong memory of a lost glory goads Life into an
\nintense and joyful effort to regain it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Nothing
\nis Truly Vain<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven grief has joy
\nhidden beneath its roots:
For nothing is truly vain the One has
\nmade:
In our defeated hearts God\u2019s strength survives
And
\nvictory\u2019s star still lights our desperate road;
Our death is
\nmade a passage to new worlds. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis to Life\u2019s
\nmusic gives its anthem swell. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nGrief does not kill;
\nman survives the worst attacks of grief, for behind grief\u2014which is
\na surface deformation\u2014there is a joy of existence. All is created
\nby the Divine and nothing created by Him is without purpose; that is
\nwhy even in the hour of defeat there is a sustaining reserve of
\nstrength within. An ultimate victory beckons man to persist and
\ntraverse the paths however difficult. Even what appears to be a total
\ncessation of life\u2014death\u2014is converted into a passage to greater
\nand freer planes of existence.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis truth, the
\ndivine element in creation, is what gives fullness and irresistible
\npower to Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>She
\nLends the Glory of Her Voice<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTo all she lends the
\nglory of her voice;
Heaven\u2019s raptures whisper to her heart and
\npass,
Earth\u2019s transient yearnings cry from her lips and fade.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is Life that
\nimparts dynamism and effectuation to all urges for expression whether
\nfrom above or from below. The joys and ecstasies from the higher
\nworlds come close to her and pass; the brief longings of material
\nearth articulate themselves through her and fade away. To both Life
\nlends herself and provides the means and the opportunity for
\nmanifestation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>God-Given
\nHymn Escapes<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAlone the God-given
\nhymn escapes her art
That came with her from her spiritual home
\n
But stopped half-way and failed, a silent word
Awake in some
\ndeep pause of waiting worlds,
A murmur suspended in eternity\u2019s
\nhush: <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife articulates and
\ngives form to many cravings but;; the truth with which she was
\ncharged when she issued out of the supreme creative Reality remains
\nunexpressed. That Word of truth was lost in the devolutionary course
\nand it still awaits in the profound ranges of the Unmanifest.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Evanescent
\nMusic<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut no breath comes
\nfrom the supernal peace:
A sumptuous interlude occupies the ear
\n
And the heart listens and the soul consents;
An evanescent
\nmusic it repeats
Wasting on transience Time\u2019s eternity.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife is cut off, as
\nit were, from the Word she was ordained to voice. What she is
\noccupied with, in the meanwhile, is some makeshift music attracting
\nthe heart and filling and satisfying the soul for the mo-‘ ment. But
\nit is a fleeting effort that ultimately arrives at nothing.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Screens
\nthe Intended Theme<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\ntremolo of the voices of the hours Oblivious screens the high
\nintended themeThe self-embodying spirit came to play On the vast
\nclavichord of Nature-Force.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAnd the loud strains
\nof the music played by this Life shut out effectively the song that
\nthe manifesting Soul came to play on the multiple instrument of its
\nNature-Power.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe Spirit embodies
\nitself in order to play its Harmonies, manifest its truths. Nature
\nprovides the needed instruments.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Mighty
\nMurmur<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOnly a mighty murmur
\nhere and there
Of the eternal Word, the blissful Voice
Or
\nBeauty\u2019s touch transfiguring heart and sense,
A wandering
\nsplendour and a mystic cry,
Recalls the strength and sweetness
\nheard no more. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe lost might and
\nsweetness, however, are not completely forgotten. As if to remind
\nLife of their existence somewhere\u2014and the possibility of
\nactualising them\u2014there is an inarticulate hearing of the deathless
\nSound, nada, here and there. A soulful strain of Delight, a touch of
\nBeauty captivating the eye and the heart, an errant Glory, a mystic
\nnote of Call, all these testify to a Splendour lost by Life but
\nseeking to be born anew.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Deficit
\nthat Paupers<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere is the gap,
\nhere stops or sinks life\u2019s force;
This deficit paupers the
\nmagician\u2019s skill:
This want makes all the rest seem thin and
\nbare. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is this gulf
\nbetween what sought to manifest and what actually Life has been able
\nto build, that is responsible for the indigent character of this
\ncreation. Life, as it is, is unable to rise higher, evoke into
\nmanifestation the greater verities and support their pressure of
\nformation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>God
\nLost in Nature’s Endless Lines<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA half-sight draws
\nthe horizon of her acts:
Her depths remember what she came to do,
\n
But the mind has forgotten or the heart mistakes:
In Nature\u2019s
\nendless lines is lost the God. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe vision of Life
\nis clipped and naturally her action is correspondingly stunted.
\nThough the knowledge of the mission with which she was charged is
\nthere at the core of her being, she has no active memory of it in her
\nmind; her feelings are too mixed to read and be guided aright.
\nConsequently the Soul that has come on the steed of Life is lost in
\nthe labyrinthine profusions of the paths and bypaths of Nature.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Her
\nHeart’s Conceit<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn knowledge to sum
\nup omniscience,
In action to erect the Omnipotent,
To create
\nher Creator here was her heart\u2019s conceit,
To invade the cosmic
\nscene with utter God. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe fond hope with
\nwhich Life started her toil was this: to set the supreme omniscience
\nof the Divine Consciousness working spontaneously in the faculty of
\nknowledge here below, to reveal the omnipotence of the Divine Force
\nin all action here below. In a word she desired to manifest in the
\ncosmos the creative Godhead in all his Glory.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Toil
\nto Bring the Glory Here<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nToiling to transform
\nthe still far Absolute
Into an all-fulfilling epiphany,
Into
\nan utterance of the Ineffable,
She would bring the glory here of
\nthe Absolute\u2019s force,
Change poise into creation\u2019s rhythmic
\nswing,
Marry with a sky of calm a sea of bliss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nShe has striven to
\ngive full expression to the far-off Absolute and Ineffable Reality
\nhere in this creation, to bring down the Supreme’s Force here in the
\ncosmos. She has sought to induce the static state of the Supreme to
\nmove into a dynamic creative condition, to bring about a fruitful
\nunification between his state of a still calm and his vast motion of
\ncreative Bliss.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>To
\nReconcile the Eternal and the Abyss<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA fire to call
\neternity into Time,
Make body\u2019s joy as vivid as the soul\u2019s,
\n
Earth she would lift to neighbourhood with heaven,
Labours
\nlife to equate with the Supreme
And reconcile the Eternal and the
\nAbyss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife is astir with
\nan aspiration to invoke the Eternal to pour itself into Time, to
\nbring the material consciousness in tune with the spiritual so that
\nthe joy that is natural to the soul could be equally native to the
\nbody. She would be the bridge between Earth and Heaven and uplift
\nEarth to the heights and joys of Heaven. She works to heal the gulf
\nbetween this world here and the Supreme on high, between the abyss of
\nnescience below and the summit of the superconscience above.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Single
\nVoice Lost<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHer pragmatism of
\nthe transcendent Truth
Fills silence with the voices of the gods,
\n
But in the cry the single Voice is lost. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife would not leave
\nthe Truth that transcends all to remain in its soleness. She seeks to
\ndraw it, its Light and Power, into her creation. The Gods, the many
\naspects and personalities of the Supreme, come into being in answer
\nto her call But amidst this multitude of Gods and their Powers, the
\nOne Reality is pushed behind the veil, the one Person is lost behind
\nhis various personalities.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Twixt
\nEarth and Sky<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nFor Nature\u2019s
\nvision climbs beyond her acts. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA life of gods in
\nheaven she sees above,
A demi-god emerging from an ape
Is all
\nshe can in our mortal element. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere the half-god,
\nthe half-titan are her peak:
This greater life wavers twixt earth
\nand sky. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe actual is never
\nthe limit of Nature. She always looks beyond it, for greater
\npossibles ever beckon her. Life sees the order of the gods above her
\nown domain; below, she sees man who has just emerged from the animal
\nstage of evolution, but she perceives that he has the makings of a
\ngod in him. In her own realm, the highest that this greater Life has
\nbeen able to achieve in her search for perfection is the half-god and
\nthe half-titan in whom manifest both Light and Darkness, both Good
\nand Evil.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nGreater Life has
\nmoved away from the stage of mortal man but has not reached the state
\nof godhead; she lingers indecisively in the middle.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Poignant
\nParadox<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA poignant paradox
\npursues her dreams:
Her hooded energy moves an ignorant world
To
\nlook for a joy her own strong clasp puts off:
In her embrace it
\ncannot turn to its source. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA tragic
\ncontradiction characterises the movements of this greater Life. What
\nshe seeks is in constant variance to what she does. By her hidden
\nforce she throws this ignorant world into a ferment in her frantic
\nsearch for perennial joy, but that joy remains out of her reach
\nbecause of her very frenzy, her eager clutchings of desire. The world
\nmoves helplessly in its never-ending round, unable to turn to the
\nsource of Joy within.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Significance
\nLost<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nImmense her power,
\nendless her act\u2019s vast drive,
Astray is its significance and
\nlost. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAlthough she carries
\nin her secret breast
The law and journeying curve of all things
\nborn
Her knowledge partial seems, her purpose small;
On a
\nsoil of yearning tread her sumptuous hours. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe power of this
\ngreater Life is immense and the range of her forceful actions vast;
\nbut the direction, the meaning of it all is not evident. It is
\nwell-nigh lost. Indeed the purpose, the governing truth and the
\ndirection are there in the depths of her being but she is not aware
\nof them on her surface levels. Here her knowledge seems to be but
\npartial and her purpose limited. Underneath there is the seeking, an
\nintense want, but on the surface, Life seems to loll leisurely,
\nabundantly.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Leaden
\nNescience<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA leaden Nescience
\nweighs the wings of Thought,
Her power oppresses the being with
\nits garbs,
Her action prisons its immortal gaze. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe weight of
\nInconscience at the base of this material creation pulls downwards
\nevery formation, every movement. In its various forms of ignorance,
\nobscurity, decay and the like, it arrests the free movement of the
\nfaculties, thought, sight etc. and limits their range of action.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Sense
\nof Limit<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA sense of limit
\nhaunts her masteries
And nowhere is assured content or peace:
\n
For all the depth and beauty of her work
A wisdom lacks that
\nsets the spirit free. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife is admittedly
\nmasterful in her workings, but she is always hedged in by various
\nlimitations\u2014limitations of the material on which she works,
\nlimitations of the instrument, limitations of the environment.
\nConsequently there is no satisfaction of complete achievement; some
\ninadequacy is always gnawing. There is profundity and there is beauty
\nin her works but there is no real freedom for her spirit; the
\nconscious intelligence that could effect the freedom is lacking.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>He
\nAsks for a Deeper Joy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAn old and faded
\ncharm had now her face
And palled for him her quick and curious
\nlore;
His wide soul asked a deeper joy than hers. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOut of her daedal
\nlines he sought escape;
But neither gate of horn nor ivory
He
\nfound nor postern of spiritual sight. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere was no issue
\nfrom that dreamlike space. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy is no more
\nheld by the novel and picturesque creation of this greater Life.
\nThings begin to pall. His large being looks for a deeper joy than
\nwhat Life can give. He wants to break away from her intricate and
\ncomplex hold, but finds no appointed doors of exit; neither does he
\nfind any opening of spiritual sight that could help him out. He sees
\nthat this enchanting scene leads nowhere.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Our
\nBeing Must Move Eternally<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOur being must move
\neternally through Time;
Death helps us not, vain is the hope to
\ncease;
A secret Will compels us to endure. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOur life\u2019s repose
\nis in the Infinite;
It cannot end, its end is Life supreme.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nCast in this field
\nof Evolution we have to keep moving onward. What appears like
\ncessation in death does not really put a full stop to things. There
\nis no halt because there is a definite goal to be reached: a freedom
\nin the Infinite and a perfect life in the Divine. All along there is
\na divine Will in the depths of our being compelling us to strive and
\nendure, sustaining us in our labour till the purpose is fulfilled.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Death
\na Passage Not the Goal<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nDeath is a passage,
\nnot the goal of our walk:
Some ancient deep impulsion labours on:
\n
Our souls are dragged as with a hidden leash,
Carried from
\nbirth to birth, from world to world,
Our acts prolong after the
\nbody\u2019s fall
The old perpetual journey without pause. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nNo silent peak is
\nfound where Time can rest. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nDeath is really not
\nthe end of our life. We do not have only one life to live, we have
\nseveral lives across which the soul journeys, gathering experience,
\ngrowing towards full embodied divinity Death is a passage from one
\nlife to another, from this physical world on earth to other worlds
\nabove where we repair for rest and assimilation before the next birth
\nis undertaken. Our souls are charged with this mission of divinity at
\nthe very start of their career by the Supreme (of whom they are
\nemanations) and this original impulsion goads them on. Besides the
\nKarma done in each life does not end with death. It continues in its
\nconsequences and forges further lives to work itself out.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is really no
\nresting place in this journey of the soul.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Stream
\nthat Reached No Sea<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis was a magic
\nstream that reached no sea. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHowever far he went,
\nwherever turned,
The wheel of works ran with him and outstripped;
\n
Always a farther task was left to do. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy finds that
\nall here is a constant movement that has no issue. However far he
\ngoes, in whichever direction he turns, he finds that activity goes on
\nand on. There is no completion. Each act leads to the next.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Unquiet
\nWorld<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA beat of action and
\na cry of search
For ever grew in that unquiet world;
A busy
\nmurmur filled the heart of Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll was contrivance
\nand unceasing stir. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn this world of
\ngreater Life there is everywhere and always a ceaseless activity, a
\nnote of search, a pervading restlessness. Things are somehow managed,
\nbut there is no satisfaction of fulfilment.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>A
\nThousand Ways<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA hundred ways to
\nlive were tried in vain:
A sameness that assumed a thousand forms
\n
Strove to escape from its long monotone
And made new things
\nthat soon were like the old. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA constant
\nexperiment goes on in this world of greater Life. There is an urge
\nfor variety, for novelty. Multiple movements take shape. But very
\nsoon the newness wears out and all sinks back into stale routine.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>All
\nStill the Same<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA curious decoration
\nlured the eye
And novel values furbished ancient themes
To
\ncheat the mind with the idea of change. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA different picture
\nthat was still the same
Appeared upon the cosmic vague
\nbackground. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is an
\nattractive ornamentation of things. Old movements are placed in new
\nsettings. In every way there is an attempt to impress with the
\nappearance of change even though there is no real change. It looks as
\nif a diferent pattern has been formed but in truth it is the same old
\none.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Another
\nLabyrinthine House<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOnly another
\nlabyrinthine house
Of creatures and their doings and events,
A
\ncity of the traffic of bound souls,
A market of creation and her
\nwares
Was offered to the labouring mind and heart. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis world turns out
\nto be yet another crowded, hectic, criss-crossed realm where there is
\nno worthwhile achievement, no freedom. All the labour of the creation
\nand the questing spirit comes to little more than a hubbub of forms
\nand movements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Circuit
\nEnding Where it Began<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA circuit ending
\nwhere it first began
Is dubbed the forward and eternal march
Of
\nprogress on perfection\u2019s unknown road. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn this world of
\nIgnorance most movements are in circles; they turn round and round.
\nThere is an appearance of forward movement, a constant progression,
\nbut very often things come back to where they started from.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n(It is only
\nmeaningful movements that register an upward direction even when they
\nmove in circles; such movements are really spiral and not merely
\ncircular.)<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Each
\nFinal Scheme Leads to a Sequel<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEach final scheme
\nleads to a sequel plan. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nYet every new
\ndeparture seems the last,
Inspired evangel, theory\u2019s ultimate
\npeak,
Proclaiming a panacea for all Time\u2019s ills
Or carrying
\nthought in its ultimate zenith flight
And trumpeting supreme
\ndiscovery; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nNothing really meets
\nthe situation in this world. Each plan seems to be the final,
\nall-sufficient remedy, but as it is worked, its inadequacies reveal
\nthemselves and a subsequent plan becomes necessary.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAnd so it goes on.
\nAt the time each scheme is launched, it is taken as the all-time
\nsolution of all the ills that beset man, the very acme of planning,
\nbut ultimately it turns out to be only one more ineffective attempt
\nthat must inevitably be followed by another.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Each
\nBrief Idea Claims Immortality<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEach brief idea, a
\nstructure perishable,
Publishes the immortality of its rule,
Its
\nclaim to be the perfect form of things,
Truth\u2019s last epitome,
\nTime\u2019s golden best. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEach idea that comes
\nfathering such schemes, though it is only a temporary construction of
\nthe mind, claims to be an everlasting verity, and demands allegiance
\nas the most perfect, the best formulation of the truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Nothing
\nAchieved of Worth<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut nothing has been
\nachieved of infinite worth:
A world made ever anew, never
\ncomplete,
Piled always half-attempts on lost attempts
And saw
\na fragment as the eternal Whole. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy sees that
\nin spite of all the hectic doings and goings on, nothing of lasting
\nvalue has been achieved in this world of greater Life. Things are
\nbeing constantly made and remade but never completed; failures are
\nfollowed by reluctant attempts again and again; parts are mistaken
\nfor the whole.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Aimless
\nMounting Total<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the aimless
\nmounting total of things done
Existence seemed a vain necessity\u2019s
\nact,
A wrestle of eternal opposites
In a clasped antagonism\u2019s
\nclose-locked embrace,
A play without denouement or idea,
A
\nhunger march of lives without a goal, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is here a
\nmounting activity, but it is aimless and the very existence of things
\nseems to be a result of some purposeless necessity. There is a
\nceaseless combat of the opposites of Light and Darkness, Good and
\nEvil. The whole scene strikes as a drama without any intelligent
\nissue, a stampeded march of things into a nowhere.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Futile
\nLabour<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOr, written on a
\nbare black board of Space,
A futile and recurring sum of souls,
\n
A hope that failed, a light that never shone,
The labour of
\nan unaccomplished Force
Tied to its acts in a dim eternity.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt is a picture of
\nfutility, repetition without issue, unfulfilled hope, failing light;
\nthere is only the ceaseless and helpless toil of a Force that never
\narrives at its objective.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Life
\nMust Struggle On<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere is no end or
\nnone can yet be seen:
Although defeated, life must struggle on;
\n
Always she sees a crown she cannot grasp;
Her eyes are fixed
\nbeyond her fallen state. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nReally there is no
\nend to the labours of life, at any rate it is not yet perceivable.
\nWhatever the failures, life is obliged to continue her struggle. She
\nis constantly drawn by some prospect of glory that she glimpses but
\nwhich always eludes her. Her vision looks beyond her present state of
\nfall.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Call
\nof Greatness<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere quivers still
\nwithin her breast and ours
A glory that was once and is no more,
\n
Or there calls to us from some unfulfilled beyond
A greatness
\nyet unreached by the halting world. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn the breast of
\nman, in the bosom of life, there is still the remembrance of a
\nglorious state that has been lost. There is also a call of some
\ngreatness from a realm beyond awaiting fulfilment, a greatness that
\nis not yet attained by this world of chequered movements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Dreams
\nof Happier Air<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn a memory behind
\nour mortal sense
A dream persists of larger happier air
\n
Breathing around free hearts of joy and love,
Forgotten by
\nus, immortal in lost Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBehind the exterior
\nawareness of man, there is a persistent sense of the certainty of a
\nfreer and happier existence in which joy and love are spontaneous. It
\nis a kind of memory of a state that the soul has lost in its
\nadventure, but which is there waiting to be recovered.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Haunting
\nMemory<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA ghost of bliss
\npursues her haunted depths;
For she remembers still though now so
\nfar
Her realm of golden ease and glad desire
And the beauty
\nand strength and happiness that were hers
In the sweetness of her
\nglowing paradise,
In her kingdom of immortal ecstasy
Half-way
\nbetween God\u2019s silence and the Abyss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife has a strong
\nmemory of her original state of will, power and bliss before she got
\ncompletely separated from her source in the Truth-Consciousness in
\nthe course of her descent from the profound peaks of Superconscience
\nto the depths of Nescience. This memory haunts her and she strives to
\nregain that state of unfettered and unvitiated play.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Hidden
\nKnowledge and Spur<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis knowledge in
\nour hidden parts we keep;
Awake to a vague mystery\u2019s appeal,
\n
We meet a deep unseen Reality
Far truer than the world\u2019s
\nface of present Truth:
We are chased by a self we cannot now
\nrecall
And moved by a Spirit we must still become. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nMan has these
\nmemories stored in the deeper parts of his being which are behind the
\nveil of the exterior. That is why he responds to the call of the
\nMysterious and somewhere his being comes into contact with a Reality
\nthat is not seen but is nevertheless more real, more full than the
\nincomplete and fragmented truth of the present state of the universe.
\nMan has forgotten his true self but that self drives him on the quest
\nfor self-recovery. He is impelled by the Spirit that seeks embodiment
\nin him.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Past
\nGod-Phase<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs one who has lost
\nthe kingdom of his soul,
We look back to some god-phase of our
\nbirth
Other than this imperfect creature here
And hope in
\nthis or a diviner world
To recover yet from Heaven\u2019s patient
\nguard
What by our mind\u2019s forgetfulness we miss, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nMan has some
\nrecollection somewhere in his being of a happier and more elevated
\ngodly state that he has enjoyed before he forfeited it and fell to
\nhis present state of imperfection. He misses it and hopes and strives
\nto regain that forgotten condition either here while on earth or in
\ndiviner worlds after death.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Mortal
\nNature Yearns for Bliss<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOur being\u2019s
\nnatural felicity,
Our heart\u2019s delight we have exchanged for
\ngrief,
The body\u2019s thrill we bartered for mere pain,
The
\nbliss for which our mortal nature yearns
As yearns an obscure
\nmoth to blazing Light. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nclings to grief
\ninstead. The joyous thrill that was natural to the body has been
\ndisplaced by pain. But his nature remembers its rightful bliss and
\nlongs for it even though in its present unpurified and untransformed
\ncondition it would not be able to bear it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>March
\nto Victory Never Won<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOur life is a march
\nto a victory never won. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis wave of being
\nlonging for delight,
This eager turmoil of unsatisfied strengths,
\n
These long far files of forward-striving hopes
Lift
\nworshipping eyes to the blue Void called heaven
Looking for the
\ngolden Hand that never came,
The advent for which all creation
\nwaits,
The beautiful visage of Eternity
That shall appear
\nupon the roads of Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nMan strives for
\nfulfilment but is not able to achieve it. His being seeks for
\ndelight, his powers of effectuation are ever striving but without
\nsuccess, his hopes are continual in their forward leap. He conceives
\nof a Heaven that can give him what he wants and supplicates the gods
\nof that paradise. He looks vainly for the delivering hand of Grace,
\nawaits the advent of a new Dawn, the birth of the Immortal in this
\nworld of mortality.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Man’s
\nFaith (I)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nYet still to
\nourselves we say rekindling faith,
\u201cOh, surely one day he shall
\ncome to our cry,
One day he shall create our life anew
And
\nutter the magic formula of peace
And bring perfection to the
\nscheme of things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThough thus
\ndisappointed and frustrated, man repeatedly affirms to himself his
\ninborn faith in the certainty of the divine response to his call. He
\naffirms his confidence that the Divine will manifest one day and
\nrecreate his failing life, bring peace to the strife-torn world and
\nrecast the present pattern of imperfection into perfection.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Man’s
\nFaith (II)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOne day he shall
\ndescend to life and earth,
Leaving the secrecy of the eternal
\ndoors,
Into a world that cries to him for help,
And bring the
\ntruth that sets the spirit free,
The joy that is the baptism of
\nthe soul,
The strength that is the outstretched arm of Love.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nMan has the
\nconfident faith that one day the Divine will come down from his
\ntranscendent spheres to this world that cries out to him for succour
\nand uplift\u2014for only then can the world be redeemed; that he will
\nbring the truth that liberates\u2014for only truth can free the soul
\nimprisoned in ignorance; that he will come with the bliss that
\nregenerates\u2014for only the divine bliss can bathe and purify the
\nbeing, giving it a new birth; that he will bring the strength of Love
\nthat is irresistible\u2014for it is only the flawless power of divine
\nLove that can shatter all obstacles and build a new creation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Man’s
\nFaith (III)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOne day he shall
\nlift his beauty\u2019s dreadful veil,
Impose delight on the world\u2019s
\nbeating heart
And bare his secret body of light and bliss.\u201d
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHe has faith that
\none day the Divine will freely manifest himself in this world, reveal
\nhis Beauty rending the veil of ugliness that has covered it in this
\nfield of Ignorance, cast his Delight on the aching heart of life, and
\nshow his real form of Light and Bliss on this scene of darkness and
\nsuffering.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>No
\nEnd of Seeking and of Birth<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut now we strain to
\nreach an unknown goal:
There is no end of seeking and of birth,
\n
There is no end of dying and return;
The life that wins its
\naim asks greater aims,
The life that fails and dies must live
\nagain;
Till it has found itself it cannot cease. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll must be done for
\nwhich life and death were made. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThat glorious
\nmanifestation, however, is still far-off. In the meanwhile man must
\ngo on striving towards a goal which is yet not clear. There is no
\nrespite allowed. He is born, he seeks, he dies only to return to the
\nscene of his toils. If he succeeds in achieving his immediate aim, a
\ngreater aim arises before him; if he fails, he must try anew\u2014in the
\npresent birth or the next. He cannot cease till he finds the truth of
\nhis being. Life is given to man and death imposed on purpose. They
\nare the processes through which he is to work out his self-discovery
\nand win the truth of his existence.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>No
\nFinal Rest<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut who shall say
\nthat even then is rest? <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOr there repose and
\naction are the same
In the deep breast of God\u2019s supreme
\ndelight. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEven after man finds
\nthe truth that he seeks, is it certain that he will rest? In that
\nstate of being and consciousness, there is really no difference
\nbetween action and repose. For all is upheld by the Being of Delight;
\nand in that supreme Delight of Existence, activity and rest are but
\nthe forward and backward flowings of the same wave of Bliss. They are
\nnot two different and exclusive movements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Where
\nIgnorance is no More<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn a high state
\nwhere ignorance is no more,
Each movement is a wave of peace and
\nbliss,
Repose God\u2019s motionless creative force,
Action a
\nripple in the Infinite
And birth a gesture of Eternity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn that high state
\nof consciousness where the last shadows of Ignorance are overpassed,
\nevery movement is a wave of peace and bliss. Ignorance being no more,
\nthere is no strife, no pain. Rest is a state without motion of the
\ncreative force, but is fully potent all the same; action is a local
\nstir in the waters of the Infinite hardly disturbing the ocean;
\nappearance in Time is a willed movement of the Timeless, not
\nsomething fortuitous and momentary.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>Sun
\nof Transfiguration<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA sun of
\ntransfiguration still can shine
And Night can bare its core of
\nmystic light;
The self-cancelling, self-afflicting paradox
Into
\na self-luminous mystery might change,
The imbroglio into a joyful
\nmiracle. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe glorious
\nprospect is there, and is confidently awaited, when the supreme Light
\ncan radiate and change all and the Darkness dissolve revealing the
\nlight of the Spirit concealed in its bosom, when the apparently
\nself-defeating paradox of life may show its profound character as a
\npurposive formulation of consciousness and all hopeless confusion
\nyield to a joyous order.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>God
\nCould be Visible<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThen God could be
\nvisible here, here take a shape;
Disclosed would be the spirit\u2019s
\nidentity;
Life would reveal her true immortal face. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThen can be the
\nplenary manifestation of the Divine, the formless Spirit revealed in
\nform. That the Divine Spirit is omnipresent and within all that is
\nhere will be openly seen. Life will put off her present mask of
\nlimitation and death and reveal her true visage as a Power of the
\nImmortal.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>But
\nnow a Termless Labour<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBut now a termless
\nlabour is her fate:
In its recurrent decimal of events
Birth,
\ndeath appear as its vibrating points;
The old question-mark
\nmargins each finished page,
Each volume of her effort\u2019s
\nhistory. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nMeanwhile, Life has
\nto go on with her endless labour, repetitive, mechanical,
\nincondusive, with birth and death as signal points on her
\ninterminable journey. Each task completed raises the question, has it
\nbeen worthwhile?<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>All
\nSeems in Vain<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA limping Yes
\nthrough the aeons journeys still
Accompanied by an eternal No.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll seems in vain,
\nyet endless is the game. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nImpassive turns the
\never-circling Wheel,
Life has no issue, death brings no release.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEvery affirmation of
\nLife, however halting, brings a negation in its wake\u2014birth is
\nfollowed by death, success by failure and so on. And so the journey
\ngoes on and on, apparently in vain. The Wheel of Life turns on its
\ncourse indifferent to what ensues from its movement. The relentless
\neffort of Life achieves no result, and death brings no release
\neither.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n
<\/FONT><\/FONT>An
\nError has Made the World<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA prisoner of itself
\nthe being lives
And keeps its futile immortality;
Extinction
\nis denied, its sole escape. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAn error of the gods
\nhas made the world. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOr indifferent the
\nEternal watches Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe soul is a
\nprisoner shut up in its encasement. Its innate immortality is of
\nlittle practical consequence in this mechanical round of life and
\ndeath. It cannot end itself and thus escape. It looks as if the whole
\nworld were the result of some error of the creating Gods, or that the
\nEternal were indifferent to what takes place in Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Introduction   Notes   Book 1   Book II   Book III   Book IV    Book V   Book VI   Book VII   Book VIII    Book IX   Book X   Book XI   Book XII Book Two. The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[250],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10674","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-book-2-savitri-study","wpcat-250-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10674","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10674"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10674\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11157,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10674\/revisions\/11157"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10674"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10674"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10674"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}