{"id":10684,"date":"2014-07-13T00:13:27","date_gmt":"2014-07-13T07:13:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/saa.santansoftwaresystems.com\/?p=10684"},"modified":"2014-12-06T23:13:20","modified_gmt":"2014-12-07T07:13:20","slug":"savitri-study-book-2-canto-6-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/savitri-study\/book-2-savitri-study\/savitri-study-book-2-canto-6-2","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

Book Two<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nThe Book of the Traveller of the Worlds<\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\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


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


\nEscaping
\nfrom the anarchic world of lower life, Aswapathy enters the realms of
\ngreater life. The world he first steps into is an ineffectual one
\nwhere there is but an intermittent will to live and no direction at
\nall. He arrives 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
\ngreater creation follows. The will to life is manifested in a more
\nsubstantial way. The inner Spirit impresses itself on the innumerable
\nforms of life, there is a rhythm and beauty, a light and joy which
\nhowever incomplete\u2014bespeak a greater glory beyond.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis
\nrealm exerts great influence upon the earth; the higher movements of
\nlife on earth are inspired from here. Here is the pattern to which
\nhuman seeking points. An endless possibility is seen here climbing
\nhigh on a ladder of dreams, from height to greater height. An energy
\nis at work perpetually, though its results are transient, putting out
\nforms, larger and larger. She tries by every means to regain the
\nBliss she has lost in the course of her devolution from her source in
\nthe supreme 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
\ngreater Life is in pursuit of the Unseen, the Light beyond; she feels
\nthe Silence and the touch of the Grace from above. She is close to
\nthe heavens of the Gods, but also to the worlds of the demons. She
\nhungers for expansion, for elevation, for perfection, and goes on
\ncreating to that end. She almost achieves her aim but falls short
\nultimately.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThus
\ndoes Life exert herself and create on every plane of existence
\nirrespective of the failures she may meet in the course of her toil.
\nIn whatever condition, she is productive in her labour. Even when she
\nis apparently immobile, she works beneath the surface.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn
\nthe utmost obscurity of Matter, she is still active. There is an
\nIntelligence in her that guides, a Will that goads through darkness,
\nnon-sentience and inertia to an irresistible creative movement.
\nGradually sense, mind, heart, soul come into formation and the
\nworld-procession upborne by her assumes a meaning and direction. Life
\nmeans to recapture her lost eternity.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nLife
\nmoves into action for the delectation of her Purusha. By a hundred
\nmeans she seeks to hold his interest but he turns to his native state
\nof immutable and formless peace. He is first asleep in her
\npro-founds; gradually she awakens him to consciousness. The world she
\nbuilds is a net in which he is held.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nShe
\nis moved by a Knowledge that works under the cloak of Ignorance; she
\nhas a might that does the incredible. On the lower levels her
\nworkings hide their purpose, on the higher altitudes they are
\nundisguised in their operations. But still, her forms are only
\ntokens; the Truth is not yet concretely built; what is constructed is
\nonly a copy, a figure.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis
\nis the character of the world that opens before Aswapathy. It is lit
\nby a Truth, but not the Truth manifest. There is a freer space and
\nlarger air; life is lived from a deeper level, not from the surface.
\nLife is the leading power, with mind and body following her trail.
\nThe dimensions 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
\nworld lies on the border of our mortal state. It inspires all great
\nmovements in the world below on earth and sets the patterns for
\nformations below. In this world of greater Life there is an open
\nconfrontation between the true and the false, the good and the evil,
\nand one is forced to make a choice between the hosts. The balance of
\nvalues is other than that of earth: the inner determines the outer.
\nAll derives from the truth within. Sense is no barrier. The Mind,
\nemotion and feeling of one are not divided from those of others, but
\ncommune and fuse into each other. There is a live interchange. Still
\nthe ultimate oneness is not there. A soul, if it so wishes, can shut
\nitself from others. There is no real identity. The miracle of
\nInconscience has been indeed over-passed, but the miracle of
\nSuperconscience is still a mystery looming overhead. This is a kind
\nof midterm between the two mysteries\u2014an ambiguous life in an
\nuncertain world.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy
\nfollows the trails of the greater Life. At first no aim is visible
\nbut only a wide source of all things, pointing to a still wider
\nsource. There is a stronger pull from the Unknown above, a mightier
\nand vaster formation of the Life-Force. Yet much remains unrevealed.
\nAswapathy tries to scan the tangled design spread before him but
\nloses himself repeatedly in the labyrinth of signs and patterns. A
\nthousand faces of the Truth stare at him, voices speak to him, Ideas
\nflash; he watches with amazement the appearance and disappearance of
\nLife’s hopes and joys and passions. He takes his poise in the Silence
\non the heights and sees Life losing herself in Infinity. He
\nidentifies himself closely with her so that he might learn the
\nsecrets of her soul. He is overpowered by her splendour and display
\nof skill. But he sees also her being within that is disappointed at
\nher failure to seize the truth. The Divine Beloved is still beyond.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAswapathy
\nfeels the presence of the Spirit in the forms built by Life, the
\nSpirit from which she derives her strength. But he is unable to
\ndecipher the design in her vision, though he catches some hints at
\nthat high level of Life-existence. He follows her course towards some
\ninfinitude and reads her signs aright by intuitive flashes.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll
\nis a play of Life and Spirit, a game of hide and seek, gain and loss.
\nThe Spirit hopes to possess Life, but loses himself in her manifold
\nplay. Hopes and disappointments, joys and griefs, punctuate her
\nroutes. With all the pain and tears, however, it is a joy to live;
\nfor there is a Will behind each life; God has created everything on
\npurpose. This element at the core gives meaning to Life, though she
\nhas wandered far away from her governing truth in her plunge down
\nfrom her spiritual home.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTo
\nmanifest the Divine Reality was the mission with which Life was
\ncharged. But her performance has lagged behind her objective. She is
\nnot permitted to cease from her labours and she must endure, strive
\nand move on. Life and the soul within her have no respite from the
\nmarch. Each goal points to the next. Behind all effort, there is a
\nmemory of the lost glory and beyond all failures, there is a
\nSplendour that beckons. Life is perpetually in toil to realise her
\ndream. There is an abiding faith that a time must come when the
\nDivine will respond to her Call and manifest His Verities of Truth,
\nBeauty, Love and Bliss in Life’s creations and restore her to her
\ntrue immortal state.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nTill
\nthen her labours must continue, however vain, however fruitless they
\nmay seem and though her world appear a pointless mistake of the gods.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAs
\none who between dim receding walls
Towards the far gleam of a
\ntunnel\u2019s mouth,
Hoping for light, walks now with freer pace
\n
And feels approach a breath of wider air,
So he escaped from
\nthat grey anarchy. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy’s
\npassage from 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
Ineffectual
\nWorld<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nInto
\nan ineffectual world he came,
A purposeless region of arrested
\nbirth
Where being from non-being fled and dared
To live but
\nhad no strength long to abide. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nworld into which he emerges has an air of fruitlessness. Things are
\ntrying to come to birth but their attempts succeed only partially.
\nThere is a willed effort to be but there is not enough strength to
\nsurvive long.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAbove
\nthere gleamed a pondering brow of sky
Tormented, crossed by wings
\nof doubtful haze
Adventuring with a voice of roaming winds
And
\ncrying for a direction in the void
Like blind souls looking for
\nthe selves they lost
And wandering through unfamiliar worlds;
\n
Wings of vague questioning met the query of Space. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nair is thick with questionings. Nothing is yet certain. Life is on
\nthe move seeking a direction but not knowing where to turn, like
\nsouls who in the blindness of their ignorance have lost their
\nidentity and wander about looking for the truth of their existence in
\nthe strange worlds where they find themselves.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAfter
\ndenial dawned a dubious hope,
A hope of self and form and leave
\nto live
And the birth of that which never yet could be,
And
\njoy of the mind\u2019s hazard, the heart\u2019s choice,
Grace of the
\nunknown and hands of sudden surprise
And a touch of sure delight
\nin unsure things: <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nFrom
\nthe ubiquitous denial of everything in the worlds of lower life,
\nAswapathy passes into a realmwhere there is hope however uncertain it
\nbe. Here in the kingdoms of higher life there are possibilities of
\nexistence for forms, of birth for things which could not come to be
\nso far, of joy for the mind in its probings, of freedom for the heart
\nto choose, of unfailing delight in things, however uncertain they be,
\nof the action of the Grace of God, unexpected and surprising.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nTo
\na strange uncertain tract his journey came
Where consciousness
\nplayed with unconscious self
And birth was an attempt or episode.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThings
\nare still uncertain, though not denied the right to live. There is
\nhere a play of consciousness\u2014what is unaware is acted upon to awake
\ninto awareness. But things take birth only to pass; they do not last,
\nthey can stay only briefly. However, even this birth into brief
\nexistence is a gain.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\ncharm drew near that could not keep its spell,
An eager Power
\nthat could not find its way,
A Chance that chose a strange
\narithmetic
But could not bind with it the forms it made,
A
\nmultitude that could not guard its sum
Which less than zero grew
\nand more than one. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHere
\nBeauty and Power from the higher regions attempt to enter and remain,
\nbut they are unable to do so as conditions are not ready for them to
\nendure. It 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
Mythic
\nAir<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nArriving
\nat a large and shadowy sense
That cared not to define its
\nfleeting drift
Life laboured in a strange and mythic air
Denuded
\nof her sweet magnificent suns. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHere
\nall is vague. Life strives under a vast shadow of uncertainty not
\nknowing where she is drifting. The atmosphere is unfamiliar. There is
\nan air of unreality. The bright light that nourishes her other realms
\nis not here.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nIt
\nis a domain where dreams and imaginations play riot and prepare the
\nground for some eventual creation. But nothing concrete is achieved.
\nAll is at the enchanting stage of pre-formation where anything seems
\npossible; the hard realities of the actual do not disturb this world
\nof enchantment.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nmarvels of a twilight wonderland,
Full of a beauty strangely,
\nvainly made,
A surge of fanciful realities,
Dim tokens of a
\nSplendour sealed above,
Awoke the passion of the eyes\u2019 desire,
\n
Compelled belief on the enamoured thought
And drew the heart
\nbut led it to no goal. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthis realm of wonder there is a surge of movements\u2014movements of
\nBeauty and of Glory trying to formulate something of the divine
\nSplendour of the veiled heights above. These powerful movements that
\nattract the eye impart a sense of certainty to the helplessly drawn
\nmind and pull the will towards them, though ultimately they achieve
\nnothing definite.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nmagic flowed as if of moving scenes
That kept awhile their
\nfugitive delicacy
Of sparing lines limned by an abstract art
In
\na rare scanted light with faint dream-brush
On a silver
\nbackground of incertitude. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThings
\nhere keep on changing their indefinite contours against a background
\nthat is itself uncertain. The light is dim adding to the enchantment
\nof the scene.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAn
\ninfant glow of heavens near to morn,
A fire intense conceived but
\nnever lit,
Caressed the air with ardent hints of day. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIt
\nis not yet broad daylight. There is but the glow of dawn in the
\nskies, holding the promise of the outbreak of flaming light, filling
\nthe air with expectation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nperfect longing for imperfection\u2019s charm,
The illumined caught
\nby the snare of Ignorance,
Ethereal creatures drawn by body\u2019s
\nlure
To that region of promise, beating invisible wings,
Came
\nhungry for the joy of finite life
But too divine to tread created
\nsoil
And share the fate of perishable things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHere
\ncome the truths of the Divine Being attracted by the possibilities of
\nadventure into their opposites. What is perfect wishes to experience
\nthe novelty of imperfection; Knowledge seeks to sport with Ignorance;
\nsubtle existences want to embody themselves in gross forms; the
\nInfinite wants to play the finite. But they are reluctant to go the
\nwhole way and pay the price of death for participation in creation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nChildren of the unembodied Gleam
Arisen from a formless thought
\nin the soul
And chased by an imperishable desire,
Traversed
\nthe field of the pursuing gaze. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nthese are truths that have issued from the being of the Creative Soul
\nin the wake of a perception, a certain possibility, and impelled by
\ndesire, k\u0101ma, to actualise that possibility. The Truth-vision
\ncreates the field for the Truth-perception to shape itself and the
\nwhole movement takes place in that developing field.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nwill that unpersisting failed, worked there:
Life was a search
\nbut finding never came. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHere
\non this plane of life the will to live is not strong enough to
\npersist against the contrary pulls of nature. It fails. Life is in
\nsearch of something but she does not succeed in her object. There is
\nno continuity of will.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThere
\nnothing satisfied, but all allured,
Things seemed to be that
\nnever wholly are,
Images were seen that looked like living acts
\n
And symbols hid the sense they claimed to show,
Pale dreams
\ngrew real to the dreamer\u2019s eyes. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nis here no certainty, no satisfaction of fulfilment. All is
\ncompulsively attractive, seeming to be real but never actually so;
\nimages abound but they are only unsubstantial figures; symbols do not
\nreveal but only veil what they stand for. It is a world of vague
\ndreams that appears real to the dreamer.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nsouls came there that vainly strive for birth,
And spirits
\nentrapped might wander through all time,
Yet never find the truth
\nby which they live. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nSouls
\nthat come for embodiment cannot hope to achieve their purpose here.
\nEntities and forces which are attracted to this scheme of life may
\nstay here under its spell and strive for all time but the truth which
\nbases their existence and is the justification of their being will
\nnot be found here.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAll
\nran like hopes that hunt a lurking chance;
Nothing was solid,
\nnothing felt complete:
All was unsafe, miraculous and half-true.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIt
\nseemed a realm of lives that had no base. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nforces, all beings here are on the move hoping to catch some
\nopportunity that may come by, as human hopes that persist, expecting
\nchance favours, some time or other.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nNothing
\nhere is concrete, nothing fulfilled, nothing fully true. All is
\nprecarious, more untrue than true; existence itself is a miracle,
\nLives there are but they have no firm standing-ground.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThen
\ndawned a greater seeking, broadened sky,
A journey under wings of
\nbrooding Force. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nFirst
\ncame the kingdom of the morning star:
A twilight beauty trembled
\nunder its spear
And the throb of promise of a wider Life.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAs
\nAswapathy proceeds he enters, under the spell of a gathering Force,
\ninto another belt of larger vistas, higher impulsions. First comes a
\nrealm of trembling light, beauteous and astir with hints of a wider
\nmanifestation of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThen
\nslowly rose a great and doubting sun
And in its light she made of
\nself a world. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\nspirit was there that sought for its own deep self,
Yet was
\ncontent with fragments pushed in front
And parts of living that
\nbelied the Whole
But, pieced together, might one day be true.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThen
\nthere breaks a greater and fuller light, which, however, is somewhat
\nunsure of itself. In this light Life seeks to find her own real self
\nand organise a world around it. But all that she succeeds in doing is
\nto throw up fragmentary constructions which are far from the figure
\nof her self, though eventually they could, in their totality, answer
\nto its truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nYet
\nsomething seemed to be achieved at last. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\ngrowing volume of the will to be,
A text of living and a graph of
\nforce,
A script of acts, a song of conscious forms
Burdened
\nwith meanings fugitive from thought\u2019s grasp
And crowded with
\nundertones of life\u2019s rhythmic cry,
Could write itself on the
\nhearts of living things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nthe same there is here some definite advance towards achievement.
\nThere is a stronger impress of the will to exist, a bolder
\nformulation of life and connected action. There is a greater
\nexpression of consciousness in forms\u2014though its significances elude
\nthe grasp of thought\u2014and an audibly pervading rhythm of the breath
\nof Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nan outbreak of the might of secret Spirit,
In Life and Matter\u2019s
\nanswer of delight,
Some face of deathless beauty could be caught
\n
That gave immortality to a moment\u2019s joy, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nTo
\nthe outburst of the Power of the indwelling Spirit, there is a joyous
\nresponse from Matter and Life, creating thereby an opportunity for a
\nrevelation of some aspect of the Beauty of the Eternal. This
\nrevelation gives a touch of immortality to the joy of life however
\nmomentary it may be.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nBeauty,
\nDelight, Immortality follow in the wake of the plenary manifestation
\nof the Divine Spirit in Life and Matter.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nSome
\nword that could incarnate highest Truth
Leaped out from a chance
\ntension of the soul, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


\nIt
\nis only when the being is withdrawn from all dispersion and
\ningathered in concentration that the perfect Word capable of
\nembodying the highest truth\u2014mantra\u2014is prepared and takes shape in
\nthe consciousness.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nSome
\nhue of the Absolute could fall on life,
Some glory of knowledge
\nand intuitive sight,
Some passion of the rapturous heart of Love.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOther
\nverities of the Divine Reality also manifest. Some glowing aspect of
\nthe Absolute, as an illumination of knowledge, a vision of intuition,
\nan intensity of the power of Love, play on Life, following an
\noutbreak of the might of the secret Spirit.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nhierophant of the bodiless Secrecy
Interned in an unseen
\nspiritual sheath,
The Will that pushes sense beyond its scope
To
\nfeel the light and joy intangible,
Half found its way into the
\nIneffable\u2019s peace,
Half captured a sealed sweetness of desire
\n
That yearned from a bosom of mysterious Bliss,
Half
\nmanifested veiled Reality. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nactive Will to manifest what is un-manifested begins to be more
\neffective. It is this Will that forces the limited senses to extend
\ntheir range beyond their habitual run of the gross and feel something
\nof the subtler light and joy in existence. This unceasing Will finds
\nhere something of the peace of the ineffable Reality, something of
\nthe sweet longing welling from a. hidden Bliss at the root of things.
\nIt manifests partly the Reality behind the veil.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nsoul not wrapped into its cloak of mind
Could glimpse the true
\nsense of a world of forms;
Illumined by a vision in the thought,
\n
Upbuoyed by the heart\u2019s understanding flame,
It could hold
\nin the conscious ether of the spirit
The divinity of a symbol
\nuniverse. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIt
\nis possible for the soul here as it is not yet covered by the
\nmisleading and blinding mind\u2014to perceive the real significance of
\nthis world of forms. A luminous vision informs its thought; a direct
\nunderstanding in the heart rises up and it is able as a result, to
\ngrasp and hold in its spiritual poise the divine nature of this
\nuniverse which is in fact a Figure of the Reality.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThis
\nrealm inspires us with our vaster hopes;
Its forces have made
\nlandings on our globe,
Its signs have stamped their patterns on
\nour lives:
It lends a sovereign movement to our fate,
Its
\nerrant waves motive our life\u2019s high surge. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nrealm of greater life has its action on our earth. The larger
\nmovements, higher aspirations and strivings in our human world are
\ninspired from there. Things from there cast their moulds here on
\nearth and forces from there communicate their achieving power here.
\nThe mighty upsurges of our lives particularly are, as it were, the
\noverflow of the coursings of the Life-movements in that realm above.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAll
\nthat we seek for is prefigured there
And all we have not known
\nnor even sought
Which yet one day must be born in human hearts
\n
That the Timeless may fulfil itself in things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nthat we strive for here on earth is there, in that Life-realm,
\nprepared and ready to be precipitated into the material world. There
\nstands prefigured even what we are not aware of or have sought for,
\nbut which, nevertheless, has to be realised at some time or other for
\nthe fullness of the manifestation here of the Divine Reality.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIncarnate
\nin the mystery 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
\nthe Eternal Being are endless possibilities. One of these
\npossibilities which is sanctioned by theSupreme sets out on its
\ncareer and this Creation is the result. It is a conscious movement of
\nthe Eternal pouring itself in Time, of the Infinite devolving into
\nthe finite. This devolution of the Higher into the lower term is one
\npart of the movement; the evolution of the lower into the Higher, the
\nascent, is the other part of the possibility.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe
\nfinite ascends into the Infinite up the evolutionary ladder that has
\nno end.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAll
\non that ladder mounts to an unseen end. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAn
\nEnergy of perpetual transience makes
The journey from which no
\nreturn is sure,
The pilgrimage of Nature to the Unknown.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nFrom
\nthe known all climbs to the Unknown. There is in action a mighty
\nLife-Energy whose products may be of temporary duration but whose
\nworking is ceaseless in forging the path and effecting the ascent of
\nevolutionary Nature to the summits of Existence that transcend the
\nhorizons of the mind. The journey is ever forward.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAs
\nif in her ascent to her lost source
She hoped to unroll all that
\ncould ever be,
Her high procession moves from stage to stage,
A
\nprogress leap from sight to greater sight,
A process march from
\nform to ampler form,
A caravan of the inexhaustible
Formations
\nof a boundless Thought and Force. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nis in fact the ascent of Life to her own Source above, the cit\u015bakti,
\nfrom which she has got separated in the course of the devolution of
\nthe Spirit. The ascent is also an unrolling, a manifestation of all
\nthat seeks to manifest. This movement proceeds systematically, step
\nby step; from a lower light it climbs to a higher, from a restricted
\nsight to a greater. The process develops from small and simple forms
\nto the building of larger and more intricate forms. The way is strewn
\nwith the countless formations of Force and Thought thus created.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nHer
\ntimeless Power that lay once on the lap
Of a beginningless and
\nendless Calm,
Now severed from the Spirit\u2019s immortal bliss,
\n
Erects the type of all the joys she has lost; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nBefore
\nthis movement of devolution and evolution begins, Life-Power lies at
\nrest in the Being of the Eternal. Once she is released into action
\nand in the course of the descent gets separated from her source in
\nthe Eternal’s Consciousness-Force that is blissful, she tries to
\nrecapture what is lost. She goes on to rebuild, in the conditions of
\nher fall, the pattern of those joys that were once natural to her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nCompelling
\ntransient substance into shape,
She hopes by the creative act\u2019s
\nrelease
To o\u2019erleap sometimes the gulf she cannot fill,
To
\nheal awhile the wound of severance,
Escape from the moment\u2019s
\nprison of littleness
And meet the Eternal\u2019s wide sublimities
\n
In the uncertain time-field portioned here. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nPower of Life forces substances to shape into forms and in the very
\nmomentum of her creative advance registers certain leaps, saltus,
\nover gulfs that cannot be bridged in the normal way. She attempts in
\nseveral ways of contact, meeting and union to unite what has been
\nsevered. She strives for release into the freer heights of the Spirit
\nfrom the limitations that have formed around her and curb her actions
\nwhile they last. She strives also to gain something of the assured
\nfreedom of the Eternal even in the uncertainty of the workings of
\nTime in this realm.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEach
\nplane of existence has its own Time with its own characteristic
\nTime-action.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAlmost
\nshe nears what never can be attained;
She shuts eternity into an
\nhour
And fills a little soul with the Infinite; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAlmost
\nshe achieves the impossible. She imprisons Eternity in the flow of
\nTime and concentrates the Infinite in the tiny soul at the heart of
\nall living forms. In her meet Eternity and Time, the Infinite and the
\nFinite.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nImmobile leans to the magic of her call;
She stands on a shore in
\nthe Illimitable,
Perceives the formless Dweller in all forms
And
\nfeels around her infinity\u2019s embrace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAlso
\nmeet in her and in her workings, the Immobile and the mobile; what is
\nin movement is supported by the Moveless. Though she needs a boundary
\nfor the dynamis of her work, her field extends into the Boundless.
\nShe creates forms but is aware of the presence of the Formless
\nDivinity in each form. With all her finite and finitising movements
\nshe feels palpably the Infinite upholding her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nHer
\ntask no ending knows, she serves no aim
But labours driven by a
\nnameless Will
That came from some unknowable formless Vast.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nis no finale as such to the strivings of this labouring Power. She
\nhas no conscious, chosen aim before her. She is driven to labour by
\nan undefined 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
Secret
\nTask<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis
\nis her secret and impossible task
To catch the boundless in a net
\nof birth,
To cast the spirit into physical form,
To lend
\nspeech and thought to the Ineffable;
She is pushed to reveal the
\never Unmanifest. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAnd
\nthis is the well-nigh impossible task set by the Will, this is the
\nobject the Life-Power is driven to achieve: to bind with birth the
\nReality that is without bounds; to embody the formless Spirit in a
\nform of Matter; to formulate and express the Truth that in its innate
\nnature is beyond formulation by mind and speech\u2014’That from which
\nmind and speech fall back unattaining’ (Taittiriya Upanishad, 2.4.1.)<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nYet
\nby her skill the impossible has been done:
She follows her
\nsublime irrational plan,
Invents devices of her magic art
To
\nfind new bodies for the Infinite
And images of the Unimaginable;
\n
She has lured the Eternal into the arms of Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHowever
\nimpossible this task appears to be, it is being fulfilled by the
\nPower at work. Her movements follow a profound plan which human
\nreason cannot fathom or anticipate. She displays an endless skill in
\nproviding newer and newer forms to the Formless Infinite Reality that
\nseeks to manifest, in revealing increasingly That which cannot be
\nwholly imaged.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nShe
\nhas succinctly captured Eternity in the flow of Time, made the
\nTimeless manifest in terms of Time.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEven
\nnow herself she knows not what she has done. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nFor
\nall is wrought beneath a baffling mask: <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


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


\nA
\nsemblance other than its hidden truth
The aspect wears of an
\nillusion\u2019s trick,
A feigned time-driven unreality,
The
\nunfinished creation of a changing soul
In a body changing with
\nthe inhabitant. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nappearance is that of an illusion; nothing seems to last, all is
\nsubject to the process and decay of time; an unreal masquerades as
\nsome real. There is ever a gap of incompleteness in this changing
\ncreation. But that is not the real truth. The truth of creation is
\nyet hidden.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nInsignificant
\nher means, 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
\nwork before this Life-Power is vast and endless, but the means
\nwherewith to execute it are paltry and limited in capacity. The
\nground on which she labours is an amorphous spread of consciousness
\nand her puny instruments are the limited mind and the senses. The
\ntruth she is to manifest is endless and so is her work.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThrough
\nher workings some Truth that is eternal and transcendent reveals
\nitself in the field of Time.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\ngreatness she has dreamed her acts have missed,
Her labour is a
\npassion and a pain,
A rapture and pang, her glory and her curse;
\n
And yet she cannot choose but labours on;
Her mighty heart
\nforbids her to desist. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nis indeed a big gap between what she aims at and what is actually
\nrealised. And yet she is seized with a passion to achieve. The
\nintensity of her drive is at once her joy and her pain. She has no
\nchoice but to go on striving. The Will in her goads her on.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAs
\nlong as the world lasts her failure lives
Astonishing and foiling
\nReason\u2019s gaze,
A folly and a beauty unspeakable,
A superb
\nmadness of the will to live,
A daring, a delirium of delight.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nShe
\nmay have failed to achieve the greatness aimed at, but the failure
\ndoes not peter away. Whatever is achieved lasts, bewildering the
\ncalculations of Reason, indescribable in its beauty, however
\npurposeless it may seem,\u2014an exciting essay of the will to be, a
\nbold phantasy of the delight of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThis
\nis her being\u2019s law, its sole resource;
She sates, though
\nsatisfaction never comes,
Her hungry will to lavish everywhere
\n
Her many-imaged fictions of the Self
And thousand fashions of
\none Reality. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nis the very nature of the Life-Power. She gives in reckless profusion
\nbut no contentment is there. She is ever at work to produce and throw
\nup more and more varieties of forms, countless figures of the Reality
\nthat is One.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe
\nfiction is the sense of separateness in the individual forms, the
\nreality is their underlying oneness.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nworld she made touched by truth\u2019s fleeing hem,
A world cast
\ninto a dream of what it seeks,
An icon of truth, a conscious
\nmystery\u2019s shape. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nworld thus created by Life is not a world of truth but one of fantasy
\ntouched by something of the truth which could escape its fantasies.
\nIt is more of a dream than an actuality of what is sought for. It is
\nsome representation of truth, a form of a living mystery.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIt
\nlingered not like the earth-mind hemmed in
In solid barriers of
\napparent fact;
It dared to trust the dream-mind and the soul.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nUnlike
\nthe realm of the physical mind which confines itself to the field and
\ndata of the senses that take cognisance only of the physically
\nobvious phenomenon, this world has a larger flight. It extends itself
\non the wings of the mind that dreams and adventures at the call of
\nthe soul.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nhunter of spiritual verities
Still only thought or guessed or
\nheld by faith,
It seized in imagination and confined
A
\npainted bird of paradise in a cage. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nLife-world is in search of the higher truths of the Spirit which its
\nthought points to or some intuitive feeling assures. But it does not
\nrealise these truths, only imagines them; what it seizes and holds to
\nis only a bright imitation of the living truth that eludes it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThis
\ngreater life is enamoured of the Unseen;
It calls to some highest
\nLight beyond its reach,
It can feel the Silence that absolves the
\nsoul;
It feels a saviour touch, a ray divine:
Beauty and good
\nand truth its godheads are. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\ngreater Life is attracted to what is beyond it. It always seeks for
\nthe Splendour that is above its range. It is capable of touching the
\nSilence in which the striving soul finds its delivering release. It
\nfeels the touch of the Divine Grace, receives a ray of the Divine
\nGlory. Its governing Ideals, the truths it seeks to realise, are the
\nTrue, the Good, the Beautiful, satyam, sivam, sundaram.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIt
\nis near to heavenlier heavens than earth\u2019s eyes see,
A direr
\ndarkness than man\u2019s life can bear. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIt
\nhas kinship with the demon and the god. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIf,
\nhowever, this greater Life is closer to the heavens that are brighter
\nthan the heavens of the earth-order\u2014each order of existence,
\nphysical, vital, mental, has its own heavens\u2014it is also exposed to
\nhells that are darker and worse than the hells of the earth-life.
\nGreater Life has strong affinities to both good and evil, light and
\ndarkness, god and demon.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nstrange enthusiasm has moved its heart;
It hungers for heights,
\nit passions for the supreme. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIt
\nhunts for the perfect word, the perfect shape,
It leaps to the
\nsummit thought, the summit light. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nFor
\nby the form the Formless is brought close
And all perfection
\nfringes the Absolute. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nfervour that fills the movements of greater Life asks for constant
\nincrease, for larger and higher ranges; it desires intensely to reach
\nthe supreme Divinity. It strives to attain to the perfect expression,
\nthe perfect form, the highest thought, the highest light.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIt
\nseeks for form because the Reality that is formless can be made
\ntangible only through form. It seeks for perfection because the
\nAbsolute that is Full and Perfect can be approached only through
\nincreasing perfection.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nchild of heaven who never saw his home,
Its impetus meets the
\neternal at a point:
It can only near and touch, it cannot hold;
\n
It can only strain towards some bright extreme:
Its greatness
\nis to seek and to create. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\ngreater Life though derived from the divine Consciousness-Force,
\ncit-\u015bakti, has not realised its true nature yet. By the force of its
\ndrive it comes close to and touches the Higher Existence, but it
\ncannot hold it. It can only strive towards these brighter ends but
\nnot arrive. Its special excellence is its capacity to push towards
\ngreater things and to try to create them.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOn
\nevery plane, this Greatness must create. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOn
\nearth, in heaven, in hell she is the same;
Of every fate she
\ntakes her mighty part. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nmight of this greater Life is a force for effectuation on every plane
\nof Existence. She participates in the creative action in all
\nconditions of the manifestation that is in progress, whether of light
\nand joy or darkness and suffering or of both mixed together as on
\nearth. She is there in the building of each destiny.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nguardian of the fire that lights the suns,
She triumphs in her
\nglory and her might:
Opposed, oppressed she bears God\u2019s urge to
\nbe born:
The spirit survives upon non-being\u2019s ground,
\n
World-force outlasts world-disillusion\u2019s shock:
Dumb, she
\nis still the Word, inert the Power. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nholds in her bosom the creative urge that fathers the universe; she
\ncarries a conquering fervour that breaks down obstructions; she has
\nan irrepressible 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
Aspires
\nto the Deathless<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nHere
\nfallen, a slave of death and ignorance,
To things deathless she
\nis driven to aspire
And moved to know even the Unknowable.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHere
\non earth Life is subject to death and ignorance; she is far removed
\nfrom her native state. But deep in her is the memory of her origin
\nand that goads her to strive to reach and regain her rightful
\nimmortality, to outgrow the ignorance and emerge into a full
\nknowledge of the Reality that remains unknowable in the state of
\nignorance.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEven
\nnescient, null, her sleep creates a world. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


\nEven
\nwhen this Life-energy is not overtly active, not outwardly
\nperceivable, she works dynamically beneath the surface. Her workings
\nthere are more effective because they are less open to interference
\nby contrary elements. She is there pulsating even in an infinitesimal
\nformation like the atom, hidden even in such an inconscient form as
\nthe clod. She is ceaselessly vibrant in her creative beat.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nInconscience
\nis her long gigantic pause,
Her cosmic swoon is a stupendous
\nphase:
Time-born, she hides her immortality;
In death, her
\nbed, she waits the hour to rise. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


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


\nEven
\nwith the Light denied that sent her forth
And the hope dead she
\nneeded for her task,
Even when her brightest stars are quenched
\nin Night,
Nourished by hardship and calamity
And with pain
\nfor her body\u2019s handmaid, masseuse, nurse,
Her tortured
\ninvisible spirit continues still
To toil though in darkness, to
\ncreate though with pangs;
She carries crucified God upon her
\nbreast. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nis bereft of the Light of Consciousness from which she has originally
\nissued; she is obliged to work in the darkness of Ignorance with its
\ndim shadows pursuing her everywhere; her guiding lights\u2014however
\nbright they may be\u2014are swallowed up in the dark; obstruction,
\ndisaster, pain dog her steps constantly; but she thrives on these
\nvery elements of opposition, grows in stature and creates through
\nthese pangs of birth. Her creation is born in the stress of suffering
\nand exists in pain.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nchill insentient depths where joy is none,
Immured, oppressed by
\nthe resisting Void
Where nothing moves and nothing can become,
\n
Still she remembers, still invokes the skill
The
\nWonder-Worker gave her at her birth, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nShe
\nis at first confined in the deep gulfs of the Inconscient where there
\nis no sensation, no joy, no movement. All is a black void and nothing
\ncan take shape. But Life carries in herself the memory of her origin;
\nshe remembers 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
Reveals
\na World<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nImparts
\nto drowsy formlessness a shape,
Reveals a world where nothing was
\nbefore. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nrealms confined to a prone circle of death,
To a dark eternity of
\nIgnorance,
A quiver in an inert inconscient mass, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nWhere
\nthere is no form but only a sleepy existence, she creates form; where
\nthere is nothing but an empire of death she creates a living world
\nperceivable even in the reigning darkness of Ignorance; where there
\nis an inconscient mass without any movement, she sets up a throb.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOr
\nimprisoned in immobilised whorls of Force,
By Matter\u2019s blind
\ncompulsion deaf and mute
She reposes motionless in its dust of
\nsleep. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOr
\nshe holds herself at rest, without motion, in the depths of Matter
\nwhere her Force is still and inexpressive under the compelling spell
\nof Matter’s rule.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThen,
\nfor her rebel waking\u2019s punishment
Given only hard mechanic
\nCircumstance
As the enginery of her magic craft,
She fashions
\ngodlike marvels out of mud; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAs
\nif in punishment for breaking up the material order of immobility and
\ninconscience, Life is given the most rigid conditions for her
\nworking. And yet so great is her skill that even from such crude
\nmaterial as mud she fashions creations that are godlike.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nthe plasm she sets her dumb immortal urge,
Helps the live tissue
\nto think, the closed sense to feel,
Flashes through the frail
\nnerves poignant messages,
In a heart of flesh miraculously loves,
\n
To brute bodies gives a soul, a will, a voice. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAnd
\nwhat are the godlike wonders that she creates? In the smallest
\nphysical cell of the body she plants, the life-urge; promotes the
\ncapacity to think in the tissues and to feel and react in the
\ninsentient senses; uses the nerve-channel for the communication of
\nimpacts of pleasure and pain and the like to the brain; manifests
\nnon-physical movements, like the emotion of love in the physical
\norgan of the heart; endows the material body, an inert physical form,
\nwith a living soul, a directing will and a voice to express itself.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEver
\nshe summons as by a sorcerer\u2019s wand
Beings and shapes and
\nscenes innumerable,
Torch-bearers of her pomps through Time and
\nSpace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nworld is her long journey through the night,
The suns and planets
\nlamps to light her road,
Our reason is the confidante of her
\nthoughts,
Our senses are her vibrant witnesses. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nworld-creation is indeed a procession of the caravan of Life through
\nthe darkness of Ignorance. Time and Space are her field. Luminaries
\nlike the suns and planets light up her pathway. Reason is her
\ncollaborator and the senses her active observers. Both reason and
\nsenses subserve Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThere
\ndrawing her signs from things half true, half false,
She labours
\nto replace by realised dreams
The memory of her lost eternity.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHowever,
\nthe things she draws upon for her creation are neither fully true,
\nnor fully false, with the result that what she is able to effect is
\nof the nature of dreams seeming real enough while they last but
\nproving their unreality when they pass away. This is all that she can
\ncreate to replace the immortality of her origin of which she has but
\na haunting memory.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThese
\nare her deeds in this huge world-ignorance:
Till the veil is
\nlifted, till the night is dead,
In light or dark she keeps her
\ntireless search;
Time is her road of endless pilgrimage.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nkeeps up her relentless striving to recreate the Eternal here in this
\nworld, and pushes her wayacross the dark or semi-dark passages in
\nthis empire of Ignorance. And she will go on doing so till the veil
\nof darkness is cast aside; her path is as endless as Time in which
\nher journey takes place.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOne
\nmighty passion motives all her works. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHer
\neternal Lover is her action\u2019s cause;
For him she leaped forth
\nfrom the unseen Vasts
To move here in a stark unconscious world.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nis in her origin a Power of the creative Divine. She is a Power that
\nhas issued forth from His Being to fulfil His will and to manifest
\nHis Glory under conditions that are the very reverse of His innate
\nand supreme Consciousness and Bliss. To create and recreate till this
\nobject is fulfilled is the passionate endeavour of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe
\nShakti acts for her Lord.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIts
\nacts are her commerce with her hidden Guest,
His moods she takes
\nfor her heart\u2019s passionate moulds;
In beauty she treasures the
\nsunlight of his smile. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nflows according to the impulsions of this Will. Whatever is beautiful
\nin her creation is a reflection of the joy of the Purusha within her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAshamed
\nof her rich cosmic poverty,
She cajoles with her small gifts his
\nmightiness,
Holds with her scenes his look\u2019s fidelity
And
\nwoos his large-eyed wandering thoughts to dwell
In figures of her
\nmillion-impulsed Force. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nis her play for the delectation of her Lord. She is aware of the
\ninadequacy of her cosmic manifestations but she tries to interest him
\nwith her paltry gifts. She strives to hold his attention by her
\nvaried picturesque scenes and woos him to sanction and indwell her
\nmanifold creations.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOnly
\nto attract her veiled companion
And keep him close to her breast
\nin her world-cloak
Lest from her arms he turn to his formless
\npeace,
Is her heart\u2019s business and her clinging care. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHer
\none care is to hold the attention of her Purusha in her
\nworld-playings and keep him from turning back to his original status
\nof ineffable and formless Peace. She works to fulfil his Will but she
\nalso desires to have him as her partner, participating in her
\nmovements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nYet
\nwhen he is most near, she feels him far. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nFor
\ncontradiction is her nature\u2019s law. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAlthough
\nshe is ever in him and he in her,
As if unaware of the eternal
\ntie,
Her will is to shut God into her works
And keep him as
\nher cherished prisoner
That never they may part again in Time.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nworks through contraries. The conditions in which she is set to work
\nare the very opposite of her own nature. Immortal in her origin, she
\nis given the domain of death as her field; boundless, she is given
\nlimited instruments through which to establish herself. At the core
\nshe is luminously conscious that her Purusha is always with her,
\nsupporting and guiding her movements from behind the veil. But she
\nacts as if she were unaware of this eternal union and the only way in
\nwhich she can hold him is to relate him to all her acts, confirm his
\npresence in all her movements, and not to allow him to escape her in
\nthe field of time. She fears a repetition of the severance of the
\nkind that took place at the origin of the creative movement when
\nPower issued out of the Supreme Being and at some stage in devolution
\nparted from it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nsumptuous chamber of the Spirit\u2019s sleep
At first she made, a
\ndeep interior room,
Where he slumbers as if a forgotten guest.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nLife’s first poise this Purusha, the Conscious Being, is asleep, as
\nit were, in the spell of inconscience. He is hidden deep within folds
\nafter folds of the tranced Spirit. There is no evidence of his
\nexistence at all.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nBut
\nnow she turns to break the oblivious spell,
Awakes the sleeper on
\nthe sculptured couch;
She finds again the Presence in the form
\n
And in the light that wakes with him recovers
A meaning in
\nthe hurry and trudge of Time,
And through this mind that once
\nobscured the soul
Passes a glint of unseen deity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nis
\nfelt. Life becomes aware of the purpose of her movements and catches
\nthrough the mind which at one stage veiled the truth some revelation
\nof the Godhead.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAcross
\na luminous dream of spirit-space
She builds creation like a
\nrainbow bridge
Between the original Silence and the Void.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\nnet is made of the mobile universe;
She weaves a snare for the
\nconscious Infinite. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\ngreater Life builds her Creation in the extension of the Spirit like
\na beautiful and picturesque bridge between the white Silences on the
\nsummit of Existence and the dark Void of Nescience below. And this
\nmoving universe sufficiently attracts the Conscious Being to dwell in
\nit.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nknowledge is with her that conceals its steps
And seems a mute
\nomnipotent Ignorance. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\nmight is with her that makes wonders true;
The incredible is her
\nstuff of common fact. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nseems to act dumbly and ignorantly though irresistibly; but in fact
\nshe is instinct with a knowledge that is dynamic from behind the
\nveil. She is also endowed with a strength and power that achieves
\nimpossibles; she goes on to make actual what is unbelievable.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nHer
\npurposes, her workings riddles prove;
Examined, they grow other
\nthan they were,
Explained, they seem yet more inexplicable.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nhas her own ways of working her purposes. They baffle the human mind.
\nReason and logic cannot fathom her modes. When they try to probe into
\nthem, appearances prove to be misleading and attempts at solving her
\nmysteries only deepen them.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEven
\nin our world a mystery has reigned
Earth\u2019s cunning screen of
\ntrivial plainness hides;
Her larger levels are of sorceries made.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nMystery
\nbelongs not to the Life-world alone. Even on our physical earth there
\nis a mystery behind the deceptive veil of common phenomena.
\nInexplicable formations and movements take place in the physical
\nuniverse too, especially on those levels of its existence that are
\nnot too bound by their physicality.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThere
\nthe enigma shows 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
\nthe Life-world proper, however, the mystery is undisguised, it reigns
\nin all its richness. The apparent alikeness in form and movement
\nwhich misleads is not there. Everything is marvellous, ever new,
\nsuperbly miraculous, holding back its truth!<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThere
\nis a screened burden, a mysterious touch,
There is a secrecy of
\nhidden sense. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAlthough
\nno earthen mask weighs on her face,
Into herself she flees from
\nher own sight. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nis indeed no material covering concealing the truth of things in that
\nworld, but still the inner sense is withheld. Life is weighed down by
\na mystery, overpowered by it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAll
\nforms are tokens of some veiled idea
Whose covert purpose lurks
\nfrom mind\u2019s pursuit,
Yet is a womb of sovereign consequence.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\nform is not just a shape that has somehow come to be. Each form is a
\nself-figuration of the idea that seeks to express itself; the figure
\ncorresponds or attempts to correspond to the quality and the stress
\nof the consciousness within that ensouls the idea. The truth of this
\nidea is not easily grasped by the mind. The truth is veiled, but on
\nthat account it is not ineffective. It is the seed out of which
\nissues the shaping of the form and its subsequent developments.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nIn
\nthat life-world even feeling and thinking are dynamic; they instantly
\nproduce results. They are not, as in our world here, preparatory to
\naction but action itself. And each act there is a symbol of a veiled
\ntruth in movement. Behind the symbol-act pulsates the vibrant power
\nof Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nuniverse she builds from truths and myths,
But what she needed
\nmost she cannot build;
All shown is a figure or copy of the
\nTruth,
But the Real veils from her its mystic face. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nelse she finds, there lacks eternity;
All is sought out but
\nmissed the Infinite. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nWith
\nall her dynamism, skill and ambition, all that this Life can succeed
\nin building is a copy, an imitation of Truth, not the Truth itself
\nwhich alone can make her work immortal. Her creations are manifold,
\nbut they do not last; they break down sooner or later; eternity
\neludes her. She succeeds in building forms but all the forms
\nconstitute only a finite; the infinite is beyond.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nconsciousness lit by a Truth above
Was felt; it saw the light but
\nnot the Truth:
It caught the Idea and built from it a world;
It
\nmade an Image there and called it God. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHere
\nin this realm of greater Life Aswapathy feels the presence of a
\nconsciousness lighted up by the rays of the Truth above. This
\nconsciousness is not face to face with that Truth though it is bathed
\nin its radiance. It perceives something of that Truth as formulated
\nin the Idea and proceeds to build a world upon that basis. But what
\nit is able to so build is only an image of the Truth, though it may
\ncall it the Truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nYet
\nsomething true and inward harboured there. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nbeings of that world of greater life,
Tenants of a larger air and
\nfreer space,
Live not by the body or in outward things:
A
\ndeeper living was their seat of self. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nthe same there is something here in the world of greater Life that is
\ntrue, something that is turned inward. The atmosphere here is freer
\nthan that in the lower worlds, the field is larger. And the beings
\nhere do not 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
Domain
\nof Intimacy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nIn
\nthat intense domain of intimacy
Objects dwell as companions of
\nthe soul;
The body\u2019s actions are a minor script,
The
\nsurface rendering of a life within. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nis a strong commonalty, a deep oneness of life in this world. There
\nis no separative demarcation between the inner and the outer; objects
\nare not foreign to oneself, other than oneself, but are associates;
\nthe movements 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
All
\nForces are Life’s Retinue<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll
\nforces are Life\u2019s retinue in that world
And thought and body as
\nher handmaids move. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nis the leading Power, the ruling truth of this world. All other
\nforces that operate here are subsidiary to Life. The body and the
\nmind which dominate over life in the material world, are here her
\nunderstudies; they follow and serve Life who is the master.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nuniversal widenesses give her room:
All feel the cosmic movement
\nin their acts
And are the instruments of her cosmic might.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOr
\ntheir own self they make their universe. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHere
\nthe distinction between the individual movement and the universal is
\nvery slender. Each individual being feels the play of the cosmic
\nforce in its movements. Everywhere the sweep of Life is unbounded.
\nAll function as channels of her flow and instruments of her workings.
\nEach one embraces the whole.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nall who have risen to a greater Life
A voice of unborn things
\nwhispers to the ear,
To their eyes visited by some high sunlight
\n
Aspiration shows the image of a crown:
To work out a seed
\nthat she has thrown within,
To achieve her power in them her
\ncreatures live. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nWhoever
\ncomes under the dominion of this greater Life awakes to greater
\ninspirations and brighter illuminations. Creative urges communicate
\nthemselves; a living aspiration pulls high goals to reveal
\nthemselves. All live and strive to fulfil the purpose of this Life in
\nthem, to embody and manifest her glory.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEach
\nis a greatness growing towards the heights
Or from his inner
\ncentre oceans out;
In circling ripples of concentric power
They
\nswallow, glutted, their environment. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nEach
\nbeing is under pressure to expand, grow upwards to greater and still
\ngreater heights or to enlarge itself wider and still wider. This
\nmovement of self-enlargement spreads over larger and larger areas
\ntill it engulfs the entire environment. Each expansion proceeds in
\nbigger and bigger circles but always from one truth-centre.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEven
\nof that largeness many a cabin make;
In narrower breadths and
\nbriefer vistas pent
They live content with some small greatness
\nwon. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nEven
\nhere there are many who shut themselves in the expansion they have
\narrived at. They do not keep on progressing. They limit their field
\nand stay contented with the comparative greatness they have achieved.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nUnless
\none goes on progressing more and more, the progress achieved itself
\nbecomes a limitation, an impediment.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nTo
\nrule the little empire of themselves,
To be a figure in their
\nprivate world
And make the milieu\u2019s joys and griefs their own
\n
And satisfy their life-motives and life-wants
Is charge
\nenough and office for this strength,
A steward of the Person and
\nhis fate. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nSuch
\nbeings who limit themselves to their existing states are satisfied
\nwith their little kingdoms in which they can play the king. They
\nidentify themselves with the joys and griefs of their environments
\nand exert to fulfil their life-needs. They function in the strength
\ngiven to them as managers for the real Person for whose emergence the
\nconditions are not yet ready.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThis
\nwas transition-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
\nworld of greater Life, above the borders of our mortal world, is the
\nline of transition and the starting-point for entry into the brighter
\nheavens beyond. Its denizens are not totally foreign to our race on
\nearth; in some way they are our kinsmen.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThis
\nwider world our greater movements gives,
Its strong formations
\nbuild our growing selves;
Its creatures are our brighter
\nreplicas,
Complete the types we only initiate
And are
\nsecurely what we strive to be. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nFrom
\nthis wide world of greater Life flow the impulsions that motivate
\ngreat movements on earth. Man’s growth on earth is shaped by
\nformative actions from there. The originals of the things men seek to
\nbuild in the material world are there in this Life-world, actual,
\nliving. What is begun in the physical world is there complete in the
\nLife-world.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAs
\nif thought-out eternal characters,
Entire, not pulled as we by
\ncontrary tides,
They follow the unseen leader in the heart,
\n
Their lives obey the inner nature\u2019s law. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nBeings
\nhere in the greater Life-world are not pulled about in contrary
\ndirections as humans are in their world below. They are not
\nincomplete, not subject to alien controls. They are full,
\nself-assured, pre-designed, as it were, and they follow their guide
\nwithin, act according to the law of their inner nature, svabhava.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThere
\nis kept grandeur\u2019s store, the hero\u2019s mould;
The soul is the
\nwatchful builder of its fate;
None is a spirit indifferent and
\ninert;
They choose their side, they see the god they adore.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\nbattle is joined between the true and false,
A pilgrimage sets
\nout to the divine Light. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThose
\nwho are of this Life-world that is full of grandeur are cast in the
\nmould of heroes. The soul within them is not a mere witness, unmoving
\nand unmoved; 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
\nwhole procession of this Life-pageant is a journey to the Light
\nDivine.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nFor
\neven Ignorance there aspires to know
And shines with the lustre
\nof a distant star;
There is a knowledge in the heart of sleep
\n
And Nature comes to them as a conscious force. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nhere move upward. Even Ignorance is not content to remain what it is,
\nbut seeks to acquire Knowledge; its aspiration draws upon its visage
\na glow of the Knowledge-Light far above. Even in the swoon of sleep
\nthere is a waking Knowledge. Nature is not a mechanical energy but a
\nconscious force.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nThe
\nbeings here have their own ideals which they seek to realise. They
\naspire for Truth and strive to govern their lives in accordance with
\nit; their actions embody the spirit of the Truth sought for, their
\nthoughts are inspired by it, their lives are moulded in its figure.
\nThus they seek to grow into the divinity of Truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOr
\nto the truth of Darkness they subscribe;
Whether for Heaven or
\nHell they must wage war:
Warriors of Good, they serve a shining
\ncause
Or are Evil\u2019s soldiers in the pay of Sin. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nNot
\nall of these vital beings, however, work for the Ideal of the Divine
\nTruth, of Light. There are also those who choose the Ideal of
\nFalsehood, of Darkness. Both kinds serve their respective Ideals with
\npassion and intensity for that is their nature.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nFor
\nevil and good an equal tenure keep
Wherever Knowledge is
\nIgnorance\u2019s twin. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


\nWherever
\nKnowledge is not supreme and not the sole power but is accompanied by
\nIgnorance to whatever degree, there is bound to be this dual
\nphenomenon of good and evil. Evil proceeds from ignorance as good
\nensues from knowledge.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAll
\npowers of Life towards their godhead tend
In the wideness and the
\ndaring of that air,
Each builds its temple and expands its cult,
\n
And Sin too there is a divinity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthis Life-World, all powers have freedom to develop to their utmost,
\nto speed to their absolutes. The field is vast and adventure is
\nnatural. Each power builds its own empire and expands its sway. Even
\nSin has her own rule and holds the allegiance of her adherents.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAffirming
\nthe beauty and splendour of her law
She claims life as her
\nnatural domain,
Assumes the world\u2019s throne or dons the papal
\nrobe:
Her worshippers proclaim her sacred right. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nSin
\nclaims the whole of the Life-realm as her rightful domain. She tries
\nto establish her law\u2014bright and beautiful as it appears to her and
\nher host\u2014all over the world. She assumes the role of the
\nhigh-priest and her right to preach her gospel is blazoned by her
\nretinue.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nred-tiaraed falsehood they revere,
Worship the shadow of a
\ncrooked god,
Admit the black Idea that twists the brain
Or
\nlie with the harlot Power that slays the Soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHer
\ncrown of regalia is Falsehood. Those who worship her pay homage to
\nthis Falsehood, cherish crookedness that is the shadow of sin, admit
\nin their minds dark untruth in the form of the Idea which twists the
\nbrain by its crookedness, cherish and indulge in unholy power that
\ncorrupts and veils their soul.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


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


\nSome
\nstay put in a virtue that dominates their life; they do not move
\nfurther. Some are seized with a powerful passion which always keeps
\nthem in a ferment of restlessness. Even in the precincts of wisdom
\nsome are too proud of their kingship or sacerdocy to benefit by her.
\nSome pour out their lives in service of a feigned godhead of Power.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOr
\nBeauty shines on them like a wandering star;
Too far to reach,
\npassionate they follow her light;
In Art and Life they catch the
\nAll-Beautiful\u2019s ray
And make the world their radiant treasure
\nhouse:
Even common figures are with marvel robed;
A charm and
\ngreatness locked in every hour
Awakes the joy which sleeps in all
\nthings made. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nSome
\nof these beings of greater Life are attracted by the Ideal of Beauty
\nand they strive with passion to embody it in their lives. They grasp
\nsomething of the Beauty aspect of the Supreme, sundaram, and express
\nit in their world. Doing so they ennoble even common things and bring
\ninto existence 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
Dual
\nEnergy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA
\nmighty victory or a mighty fall,
A throne in heaven or a pit in
\nhell,
The dual Energy they have justified
And marked their
\nsouls with her tremendous seal:
Whatever Fate may do to them they
\nhave earned;
Something they have done, something they have been,
\nthey live. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nvital beings in this plane of Life drive to the extreme either way,
\nand either achieve great victories and win thrones of glory or suffer
\nheavy defeats and fall into pits of darkness and suffering. In them
\nis seen the glaring contrasts of the results of the twin-faced Energy
\nat work which turns at one end upwards to Good and at the other
\ndownwards to Evil.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAll
\nthat they enjoy or suffer is the result of their own doings. Fate is
\ntheir own creation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThere
\nMatter is soul\u2019s result and not its cause. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\na contrary balance to earth\u2019s truth of things
The gross weighs
\nless, the subtle counts for more;
On inner values hangs the outer
\nplan. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthis Life-world the balance of things is quite different from that
\nwhich obtains on the physical plane. The soul is not the product of
\nMatter as it appears to be in the physical world, but the cause which
\ncreates Matter. The soul is anterior. Similarly the subtle is of
\ngreater consequence here than the gross, whereas on the earth things
\nhave little 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
Some
\nInterior Might<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs
\nquivers with the thought the expressive word,
As yearns the act
\nwith the passion of the soul
This world\u2019s apparent sensible
\ndesign
Looks vibrant back to some interior might. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nJust
\nas the complete word\u2014the word which fully expresses its content\u2014is
\nastir with the thought that is formulating itself in it and just as
\nright action moves on the impulsion of the soul within, so the
\nperceptible design of this Life-world strongly points to some great
\nPower preparing within.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nMind not limited by external sense
Gave figures to the spirit\u2019s
\nimponderables,
The world\u2019s impacts without channels registered
\n
And turned into the body\u2019s concrete thrill
The vivid
\nworkings of a bodiless Force; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nphysical mind is limited by the nature of its instruments, the gross
\nsenses, which take cognisance only of gross objects. But the mind in
\nthis vital world is not so limited; it cognises and gives shape to
\nthe subtler formulations of the spirit that are beyond the scope of
\nthe physical mind. The contacts of the world impinge directly upon
\nthe being without the need of sense-channels\u2014and evoke responsive
\nsensations of thrill. The workings from without of the subtle Force
\nwhich is not embodied in any form are immediately converted into
\nconcrete bodily sensations.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nPowers
\nhere subliminal that act unseen
Or in ambush crouch waiting
\nbehind the wall
Came out in front uncovering their face.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nforces that act on earth are not all of them patent to the eye. Some
\nof them are stationed in and always act from unseen regions like the
\nsubliminal. We know of them only from their results. At times they
\nleap into action unexpectedly and take us by surprise. Such forces
\ncome out into the open in this vital world, and function in full
\nview.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\noccult grew there overt, the obvious kept
A covert turn and
\nshouldered the unknown;
The unseen was felt and jostled visible
\nshapes. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nWhat
\nis hidden and acts from behind the veil on earth stands revealed here
\nin this vital world. And what is considered open and obvious on earth
\nshows here a side that is still concealed and touches the Unknown. In
\nbetween the seen and visible forms, one feels here the presence of
\nthe Unseen.The seen and the unseen meet in this vital world.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nthe communion of two meeting minds
Thought looked at thought and
\nhad no need of speech;
Emotion clasped emotion in two hearts,
\n
They felt each other\u2019s thrill in the flesh and nerves
Or
\nmelted each in each and grew immense
As when two houses burn and
\nfire joins fire: <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nUnlike
\nas in the physical world on earth, here in the vital world, there is
\nno need of speech for the communication of thought; mind meets mind
\ndirectly. So also with emotions. When two hearts come together, there
\nis a spontaneous commingling of their emotions and both expand and
\nmerge into each other becoming one. There is no need of outer
\nexpression of their respective emotions to form a bridge between
\nthem.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nHate
\ngrappled hate and love broke in on love,
Will wrestled with will
\non mind\u2019s invisible ground; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthis free interchange on the subtler levels there is friction and
\ncombat too. Hatred from one meets the hatred of another and there is
\nstruggle. So also takes place the engulfing of love by love, the
\nassertion of will against will.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOne
\nfelt another\u2019s grief invade the breast,
Another\u2019s joy
\nexulting ran through the blood:
Hearts could draw close through
\ndistance, voices near
That spoke upon the shore of alien seas.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\ngrief of one is felt by another; one suffers with others. The joy of
\none thrills another; one delights with others. Distance is of no
\nconsequence. Hearts commune with each other and speech is heard
\nirrespective of the distance in between.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThere
\nbeat a throb of living interchange:
Being felt being even when
\nafar
And consciousness replied to consciousness. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


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


\nAnd
\nyet the ultimate oneness was not there. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nwas a separateness of soul from soul:
An inner wall of silence
\ncould be built,
An armour of conscious might protect and shield;
\n
The being could be closed in and solitary;
One could remain
\napart in self, alone. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIdentity
\nwas not yet nor union\u2019s peace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nBut
\nwith all this living interchange, there is not yet oneness. Soul
\ncontinues to be divided from soul. It is possible for the soul to
\nerect an unseen wall of no response between itself and others and
\nstay aloof, protecting itself from their impacts by a conscious will.
\nOne can live apart, alone in oneself. The natural identity of oneness
\nor the peace of perfect union is not yet.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAll
\nwas imperfect still, half-known, half-done:
The miracle of
\nInconscience overpassed,
The miracle of the Superconscient still
\n
Unknown, self-wrapped, unfelt, unknowable,
Looked down on
\nthem, origin of all they were. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThings
\nare still in the intermediate stage, the progress of evolving Nature
\nis still incomplete; there is much to be known yet, much to be done.
\nThe mystery 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
Forms
\nand Names<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAs
\nforms they came of the formless Infinite,
As names lived of a
\nnameless Eternity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAbove
\nis the Infinite, the Eternal. It has no form, but out of that
\nformless Being have issued all these forms; the Formless assumes
\nforms. It has no mark, no name to determine and signify its
\ncharacter, but out of that nameless Being have appeared all these
\nnames; the Nameless emerges into names.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe
\nReal in itself is formless and nameless. But forms and names are not
\non that account unreal; for they too are self-determinations of the
\nReal.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nbeginning and the end were there occult;
A middle term worked
\nunexplained, abrupt:
They were words that spoke to a vast
\nwordless Truth,
They were figures crowding an unfinished sum.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nLife-world represents the middle stage of a long way whose beginning
\nand end, start and finish, are not perceivable here. Looked at in
\nitself it appears abrupt and leaves much to be explained. All here is
\nin the nature of words trying to commune with a Truth that is beyond
\nwords, figures strewn about in the process of working out a sum.
\nThere is plenty but it is all unfinished.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nNone
\ntruly knew himself or knew the world
Or the Reality living there
\nenshrined:
Only they knew what Mind could take and build
Out
\nof the secret Supermind\u2019s huge store. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nNone
\nof the beings here knows the truth of himself or of the world of his
\nhabitation, much less of the Reality that is embedded in this
\nCreation. His knowl’edge is incomplete, not deep and full enough to
\ngrasp the truth. It ranges only to that part which is formulated by
\nthe Mind from out of the rich store of the Supermind above which is
\nstill veiled.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nBy
\nmysteries they explained a Mystery,
A riddling answer met the
\nriddle of things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nBelow,
\nthe denizens of this Life-world perceive an outspread darkness of
\nIgnorance and Nescience. Above, they face a luminous Vast which they
\ncannot fathom. In their own expanding and rising world nothing is
\ncertain. It is a Mystery on either side and all their attempts to
\nsolve it land them into more mysteries. Each riddle of life evokes a
\nfurther riddle.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAs
\nhe moved in this ether of ambiguous life,
Himself he grew a
\nriddle to himself;
As symbols he saw all and sought their sense.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAs
\nAswapathy moves in this Life-world of uncertainty, he finds that he
\nhas become a riddle to himself. HE too is overcome by the prevailing
\nuncertainty and mystery. He regards all forms and movements herE as
\nsymbolic and seeks to read through them the truth they signify<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAcross
\nthe leaping springs of death and birth
And over shifting borders
\nof soul-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
\nto know the course of the creative Spirit, Aswapathy follows the
\ngreat and subtle paths taken by Life across the phenomena of birth
\nand death, through the changing fields of the Soul; he is led on by
\nthe concealed but unmistakable delight in the breath of Life and
\npursues his daring and endless venture.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAt
\nfirst no aim appeared in these large steps:
Only the wide source
\nhe saw of all things here
Looking towards a wider source beyond.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nFor
\nas she drew away from earthly lines,
A tenser drag was felt from
\nthe Unknown,
A higher context of delivering thought
Drove her
\ntowards marvel and discovery; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthe earlier stages Aswapathy does not espy any definite aim in Life’s
\ncourse. He sees only a wide and high source of all things pointing
\nupwards to a still higher source. As Life draws away from the lowly
\nbelts of material earth, the pull upwards from the regions that are
\nyet unknown 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
A
\nGreater Scene<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThere
\ncame a high release from pettier cares,
A mightier image of
\ndesire and hope,
A vaster formula, a greater scene. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\npetty round of little cares and anxieties that holds life captive on
\nthe lower levels of the vital is passed. Here opens the empire of
\nmighty hopes and desires, larger perspectives and processes, a far
\ngreater field.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nSmall
\ndesires and petty cares are the natural movements of the lower vital;
\nthose of the higher vital have a far larger and higher range.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEver
\nshe circled towards some far-off Light:
Her signs still covered
\nmore than they revealed;
But tied to some immediate sight and
\nwill
They lost their purport in the joy of use,
Till stripped
\nof their infinite meaning they became
A cipher gleaming with
\nunreal sense. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nmighty movement of Life turns in circles and larger circles but at
\nthe same time it advances towards a distant Light that is glimpsed.
\nThough the forms and movements of this Life reveal their purpose
\nsomewhat, much remains concealed still. They are all preoccupied in
\ntheir immediate effort, lost in the enjoyment of the hour and their
\nreal significance recedes. Their value as indices of an infinity at
\nwork becomes practically nil and their appearance is illusive.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nArmed
\nwith a magical and haunted bow
She aimed at a target kept
\ninvisible
And ever deemed remote though always near. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nhere is possessed of a wonder-working Power and she is impelled to
\nrush forward even when the prospect is not clear. In the very
\nintensity of her effort she fails to see that the truth she seeks
\nafar is all the while close by her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAs
\none who spells illumined characters,
The key-book of a crabbed
\nmagician text,
He scanned her subtle tangled weird designs
And
\nthe screened difficult theorem of her clues,
Traced in the
\nmonstrous sands of desert Time
The thread beginnings of her titan
\nworks, <\/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
He
\nWatches her Action<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nWatched
\nher charade of action for some hint,
Read the No-gestures of her
\nsilhouettes,
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
\nwatches closely her complicated movements to catch some hint, notes
\nthe symbolic gestures of the fleeting figures in her high drama of
\nmusic and dance, as it were, strives to perceive the design in her
\nfanciful sequences of developing rhythms and follows her disappearing
\ntrail on receding grounds.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nthe labyrinth pattern of her thoughts and hopes
And the byways of
\nher intimate desires,
In the complex corners crowded with her
\ndreams
And rounds crossed by an intrigue of irrelevant rounds,
A
\nwanderer straying amid fugitive scenes
He lost its signs and
\nchased each failing guess. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nEver
\nhe met key-words, ignorant of their key. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHowever,
\nthe movements 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
Sun
\nand Stars<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA
\nsun that dazzled its own eye of sight,
A luminous enigma\u2019s
\nbrilliant hood
Lit the dense purple barrier of thought\u2019s sky:
\n
A dim large trance showed to the night her stars. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nupper limits of thought’s horizons are lit up by a dazzling and
\nenigmatic lustre. Thought cannot cope with it. In the silent, dimly
\nshowing skies of the night, twinkle the stars.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nAs
\nif sitting near an open window\u2019s gap,
He read by
\nlightning-flash on crowding flash
Chapters of her metaphysical
\nromance
Of the soul\u2019s search for lost Reality
And her
\nfictions drawn from spirit\u2019s authentic fact,
Her caprices and
\nconceits and meanings locked,
Her rash unseizable freaks and
\nmysteried turns. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nis helped by flashes of illumination descending upon him to view and
\ngrasp the significance of all this mighty effort of Life. He sees in
\nits strivings 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
He
\nSees Through the Masks<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThe
\nmagnificent wrappings of her secrecy
That fold her desirable body
\nout of sight,
The strange significant forms woven on her robe,
\n
Her meaningful outlines of the souls of things
He saw, her
\nfalse transparencies of thought-hue,
Her rich brocades with
\nimaged fancies sewn
And mutable masks and broideries of disguise.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nis able to observe the various masks\u2014picturesque and splendid\u2014and
\nthe disguises 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
Thousand
\nBaffling Faces of Truth<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA
\nthousand baffling faces of the Truth
Looked at him from her forms
\nwith unknown eyes
And wordless mouths unrecognisable,
Spoke
\nfrom the figures of her masquerade,
Or peered from the recondite
\nmagnificence
And subtle splendour of her draperies. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nbecomes suddenly aware of the innumerable forms around him turning
\ninto so many bewildering faces of the Reality and looking at him; he
\nbecomes conscious of the various symbols and masks coming alive with
\nvivid expressions; he sees the gaze of the Truth through all her
\nsplendid and magnificent garbs.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nsudden scintillations of the unknown,
Inexpressive sounds became
\nveridical,
Ideas that seemed unmeaning flashed out truth;
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT>
\nUnder
\nflashes 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
Herald
\nof Voices and Figures<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nVoices
\nthat came from 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
\ncreative Word, the Womb of the Cosmic rhythms, which carries the seed
\nof manifestation from the vasts of the Unmanifest finds expression
\nhere. Lines and figures with occult significance secure firmly an
\nexact underlying harmony; or they serve to re-form and proclaim the
\nadvent of new truths to manifest.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nher green wildernesses and lurking depths,
In her thickets of joy
\nwhere danger 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
\nexpanses of Life are lush and vast with unexpected depressions here
\nand there. There are places where the joy of life is specially
\nconcentrated in its play with danger a circumstance that heightens
\nthe joy of adventure. In these Aswapathy glimpses the soaring flight
\nof Life’s aspirations in all their variegated hues.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nher covert lanes, bordering her chance field-paths
And by her
\nsinging rivulets and calm lakes
He found the glow of her golden
\nfruits of bliss
And the beauty of her flowers of dream and muse.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nNot
\nall the paths of her course are open and straight. There are hidden
\nlanes and bylanes, unexpected short-cuts; there are regions that are
\nvibrant with joyous movements; there are spots where things are quiet
\nand restful. Everywhere Aswapathy finds the bright and rich yield of
\nthe bliss of Life, the beauty of her dreams and musings.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAs
\nif a miracle of heart\u2019s change by joy
He watched in the
\nalchemist radiance of her suns
The crimson outburst of one
\nsecular flower
On the tree of sacrifice of spiritual love.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nEven
\nas an outburst of joy alters the whole set-up and mood of one’s
\nheart, the radiances in the realm of greater Life effect such a
\nmiracle. Aswapathy watches the birth on the tree of Life of a
\npassionate, deep red flower that has grown from the seed of the
\nholocaust of the Spirit in its supreme Love.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nthe sleepy splendour of her noons he saw,
A perpetual repetition
\nthrough the hours,
Thought\u2019s dance of dragon-flies on mystery\u2019s
\nstream
That skim but never test its murmurs\u2019 race,
And
\nheard the laughter of her rose desires
Running as if to escape
\nfrom longed-for hands,
Jingling sweet anklet-bells of fantasy.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nobserves the repetitive movements of the Life-force which affirms
\nherself and makes and remakes things till her object is achieved; he
\nsees the complex and indefinite thought movements that touch only the
\nsurfaces of things and fail to probe into their depths which remain
\nunknown; he hears the merry laughter of bright desires that shy away
\nfrom their objects as they draw near\u2014for they would cease to be in
\ntheir fruition.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAmidst
\nlive symbols of her occult power
He moved and felt them as close
\nreal forms:
In that life more concrete than the lives of men
\n
Throbbed heart-beats of the hidden reality:
Embodied was
\nthere what we but think and feel,
Self-framed what here takes
\noutward borrowed shapes. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthis realm of the workings of the Life-Power, symbols are not mere
\ntokens or pointers. They vibrate with life and Aswapathy feels them
\nto be real, vivid and animate forms. Though the concreteness of
\nmateriality is not here, life impinges more solidly than on earth.
\nOne feels here the living vibrations of the Reality within. What men
\non earth can only feel or think, finds ready and just embodiment
\nhere. Forms here are shaped by their ensouling truths unlike on earth
\nwhere they are borrowed from the universal supply.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\ncomrade of Silence on her austere heights
Accepted by her mighty
\nloneliness,
He stood with her on meditating peaks
Where life
\nand being are a sacrament
Offered to the Reality beyond,
And
\nsaw her loose into Infinity
Her hooded eagles of significance,
\n
Messengers of Thought to the Unknowable. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nattunes himself with the profound stillness of the silent summits of
\nLife where all flows in self-giving to the Transcendent Reality. He
\nsees her’ veiled and swift Knowledge-powers pass into the Unknowable,
\nthe Infinite.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nIdentified
\nin soul-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
\ndesires to know the inmost truth that moves this greater Life. And
\nfor this purpose he identifies himself with her inner sense and
\nvision, dives deep into her profounds and becomes one with her
\nexistence and her aspirations; in thinking and in action, in living
\nand in seeing, he functions with the faculties natural to her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nwitness overmastered by his scene,
He admired her splendid front
\nof pomp and play
And the marvels of her rich and delicate craft,
\n
And thrilled to the insistence of her cry;
Impassioned he
\nbore the sorceries of her might,
Felt laid on him her abrupt
\nmysterious will,
Her hands that knead fate in their violent
\ngrasp,
Her touch that moves, her powers that seize and drive.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHe
\nstays no more a witness that he was. He turns a captive-admirer of
\nher dazzling splendour and wondrous play; he readily responds to her
\nnotes; he exults in and upbears the displays of her strength. He is
\nheld by her will the meaning of which he knows not; her hands that
\nforge destiny close on him; her initiating touches and dynamic
\nimpulsions pour upon him.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nBut
\nthis too he saw, her soul that wept within,
Her seekings vain
\nthat clutch at fleeing truth,
Her hopes whose sombre gaze mates
\nwith despair,
The passion that possessed her longing limbs,
The
\ntrouble and rapture of her yearning breasts,
Her mind that toils
\nunsatisfied with its fruits,
Her heart that captures not the one
\nBeloved. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nsees also the negative side of Life. He regards her soul within that
\nis disappointed. Her seekings do not succeed in reaching the truth
\nwhich is their objective; her hopes are shadowed by despair; the
\nintensity that fills her restless being, the desire that agitates her
\nare unceasing; her mind is never satisfied with the meagre results of
\nits workings; her heart does not succeed in meeting and clasping the
\nDivine Beloved it seeks.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAlways
\nhe met a veiled and seeking Force,
An exiled goddess building
\nmimic heavens,
A Sphinx whose eyes look up to a hidden Sun.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nWherever
\nhe turns, Aswapathy 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
Spirit
\nthe Key<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nEver
\nhe felt near a spirit in her forms:
Its passive presence was her
\nnature\u2019s strength;
This sole is real in apparent things,
Even
\nupon earth the spirit is life\u2019s key,
But her solid outsides
\nnowhere bear its trace. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nthe same, Aswapathy feels the presence of a spirit in the forms of
\nLife. This spirit, though it is not active but present only as a
\npassive witness, is the real strength of the Life-Power.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis
\nis so not only on the Life-planes but even upon Earth, the field of
\nMatter. Whatever the appearance, the truth lies within in the
\nindwelling spirit; that explains all outer movements in life. The
\ninner is the real and permanent, the outer is the result and
\nimpermanent. However, in the material world the gross form
\neffectively veils the ensouling determinant.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIts
\nstamp on her acts is undiscoverable. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\npathos of lost heights is its appeal. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOnly
\nsometimes is caught a shadowy line
That seems a hint of veiled
\nreality. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nmovements of life on earth hardly testify to the presence of this
\nspirit within. But the persistence of aspiration for the heights of
\nthe Spirit points to the existence of this spark inside; it makes
\nitself felt through this longing. Rarely does its presence reveal
\nitself in outer life-activities; only occasionally is there a vague
\nhint of the reality inside.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nLife
\nstared at him with vague confused outlines
Offering a picture the
\neyes could not keep,
A story that was yet not written there.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAs
\nin a fragmentary half-lost design
Life\u2019s meanings fled from the
\npursuing eye. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nis unable to get a clear picture of life. She is vague in form and
\nher workings do not yet reveal a pattern. Things seem to be only
\npartly done; their meaning escapes his sight.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nLife\u2019s
\nvisage hides life\u2019s real self from sight;
Life\u2019s secret sense
\nis written within, above. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nthought that gives it sense lives far beyond;
It is not seen in
\nits half-finished design. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nvain we hope to read the baffling signs
Or find the word of the
\nhalf-played charade. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nreal meaning of life lies hidden by her changing appearances. That
\ntruth is concealed within and above her. The Idea that inspires Life
\nlies beyond the Life-plane. It cannot be read in Life’s
\nhalf-completed creations. Human attempts to catch the significance
\nthrough the bewildering masks of her workings, to arrive at her truth
\nthrough the clues afforded by the incomplete play prove futile.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOnly
\nin that greater life a cryptic thought
Is found, is hinted some
\ninterpreting word
That makes the earth-myth a tale intelligible.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


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


\nSomething
\nwas seen at last that looked like truth. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\na half-lit air of hazardous mystery
The eye that looks at the
\ndark half of truth
Made out an image mid a vivid blur
And
\npeering through a mist of subtle tints
He saw a half-blind
\nchained divinity
Bewildered by the world in which he moved,
Yet
\nconscious of some light prompting his soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nGazing
\nat the scene which is only the dark half of the truth\u2014Aswapathy
\nalights upon a seeming truth. In that atmosphere, dim, dangerous and
\nmysterious, confused but led by an inner light, he espies across the
\nhaze of melting colours, a half-blind divinity in chains. The divine
\nSpirit that ensouls this world is only half-awake; its sight is not
\nyet fully open; it is bound to the formula of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAttracted
\nto strange far-off shimmerings,
Led by the fluting of a distant
\nPlayer
He sought his way amid life\u2019s laughter and call
And
\nthe index chaos of her myriad steps
Towards some total deep
\ninfinitude. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHe
\nhears divine notes calling him from afar; bright glows of light
\nbeckon to him. He makes his way forward through all the mirth and
\nurge of Life, following her innumerable chaotic steps which, for all
\ntheir confusing appearance, point to a significant goal,\u2014towards
\nsome profound infinitude beyond.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAround
\ncrowded the forest of her signs:
At hazard he read by arrow-leaps
\nof Thought
That hit the mark by guess or luminous chance,
Her
\nchanging coloured road-lights of idea
And her signals of
\nuncertain swift event,
The hieroglyphs of her symbol pageantries
\n
And her landmarks in the tangled paths of Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHis
\npassage is crowded with signs and pointers whose meaning is not
\nclear. Reasoning and logic fail him. He lets his thought intuit and
\nwhether by guess or by some higher light appearing as chance, he is
\nable to understand and follow the layout of this domain with all its
\nplay of leading ideas, tentative movements, significant shows and
\ndefinitive demarcations in the medley of paths.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nher mazes of approach and of retreat
To every side she draws him
\nand repels,
But drawn too near escapes from his embrace;
All
\nways she leads him but no way is sure. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


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


\nAllured
\nby the many-toned marvel of her chant,
Attracted by the
\nwitchcraft of her moods
And moved by her casual touch to joy and
\ngrief,
He loses himself in her but wins her not. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nSpirit is held captive by the rhythm of Life’s movements. He is
\nfascinated by her rapidly changing moods. He reacts with joy or grief
\nto her touches however casual. He is completely lost in her but
\ncannot possess her.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nfugitive paradise smiles at him from her eyes:
He dreams of her
\nbeauty made for ever his,
He dreams of his mastery her limbs
\nshall bear,
He dreams of the magic of her breasts of bliss.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


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


\nIn
\nher illumined script, her fanciful
Translation of God\u2019s pure
\noriginal text,
He thinks to read the Scripture Wonderful,
\n
Hieratic key to unknown beatitudes. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nBut
\nthe Word of Life is hidden in its script,
The chant of Life has
\nlost its divine note. <\/FONT><\/FONT>
\nThe
\nSpirit-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
Play
\nof Life and Spirit (V)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nSpirit is shut within the walls of sound, forgetting himself in the
\npicturesque imagery of his dream. The notes that he listens to are
\nthose sounded by the multi-toned and illusive play of Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\ndelicate weft of sorcery steals the heart
Or a fiery magic tints
\nher tones and hues,
Yet they but wake a thrill of transient
\ngrace;
A vagrant march struck by the wanderer Time
They call
\nto a brief unsatisfied delight
Or wallow in ravishments of mind
\nand sense,
But miss the luminous answer of the soul. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nplay of Life is enchanting in the pattern she weaves, in the spell of
\nher notes and the scintillations of her bright colours, but the
\ndelight it produces is temporary. It palls after a time or one is
\nlost in the enjoyment of the senses and the sense-mind. In either
\ncase the response of the inner soul is not given. The pageant reveals
\nitself as aimless.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nblind heart-throb that reaches joy through tears,
A yearning
\ntowards peaks for ever unreached,
An ecstasy of unfulfilled
\ndesire
Track the last heavenward climbings of her voice.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHer
\ngreat soarings to the infinities above take place on the wings of an
\nirresistible impulsion from within to win joy through whatever
\nsuffering it might entail. She is moved by a spirit of adventure to
\nscale the unconquered peaks, by an anticipatory thrill that
\naccompanies the effort to reach the object of her desire.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nTransmuted
\nare past suffering\u2019s memories
Into an old sadness\u2019s sweet
\nescaping trail:
Turned are her tears to gems of diamond pain,
\n
Her sorrow into a magic crown of song. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthe procession of Life, sufferings are quickly forgotten; they pass
\ninto memories which when recalled strike only a momentary sad note,
\nsweet and fleeting_ The tears that are shed in the struggle of Life
\nare preserved in precious lessons of experience. Sorrows undergone
\nbecome themes for inspiring ballads.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nBrief
\nare her snatches of felicity
That touch the surface, then escape
\nor die:
A lost remembrance echoes in her depths,
A deathless
\nlonging is hers, a veiled self\u2019s call;
A prisoner in the
\nmortal\u2019s limiting world,
A spirit wounded by life sobs in her
\nbreast;
A cherished suffering is her deepest cry. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nare brief intervals of happiness when some felicity from within wells
\nup, but it soon passes or is smothered by the stresses and griefs of
\nlife. There is somewhere in the profounds of Life a memory of her
\noriginal immortality and she longs for it, in some form or other,
\nconstantly. The divine entity within calls her to her innate status.
\nThis soul within\u2014deathless and boundless by nature\u2014is encased in
\nher mortal, limited embodiment and subjected to the bitter
\nexperiences of Life. She is aware of this suffering of her soul and
\nher deepest articulations are poignant with its pain. And, in a way,
\nLife values this suffering in her breast for it keeps fresh the
\nawareness of her ensouling truth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nwanderer on forlorn despairing routes,
Along the roads of sound a
\nfrustrate voice
Forsaken cries to a forgotten bliss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nLife-being has fallen from its original state of bliss and some
\nmemory of it drives it to regain that bliss. It strives for this in
\nvaried movements, but finds itself doomed to disappointment and cries
\nout in despair.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAstray
\nin the echo caverns of Desire,
It guards the phantoms of a soul\u2019s
\ndead hopes
And keeps alive the voice of perished things
Or
\nlingers upon sweet and errant notes
Hunting for pleasure in the
\nheart of pain. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nLife-being is lost in the proliferating terrains of Desire; even when
\nhopes are frustrated and dead, it keeps their memory alive. It
\nfollows enchanting and false calls in its search for joy and pleasure
\nin the midst of prevailing grief and pain.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nA
\nfateful hand has touched the cosmic chords
And the intrusion of a
\ntroubled strain
Covers the inner music\u2019s hidden key
That
\nguides unheard the surface cadences. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nSome
\ndire and decisive touch has set astir all this cosmic motion. This
\ndisturbance has brought in an element which effectively conceals the
\nrhythm of things whose unheard beat gives meaning to the outer
\nmovements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nYet
\nis it joy to live and to create
And joy to love and labour though
\nall fails,
And joy to seek though all we find deceives
And
\nall on which we lean betrays our trust;
Yet something in its
\ndepths was worth the pain,
A passionate memory haunts with
\necstasy\u2019s fire. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nspite of all the pains and shocks, there is a joy in living, in
\nstriving, in creating, in loving. Maybe all effort fails in the end,
\nobjects of desire disappoint when acquired at long last and trust is
\nbetrayed constantly; but truly all has not been in vain. There is
\nsome deeper purpose that justifies all the apparently useless effort
\nand hardship. The strong memory of a lost glory goads Life into an
\nintense and joyful effort to regain it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEven
\ngrief has joy hidden beneath its roots:
For nothing is truly vain
\nthe One has made:
In our defeated hearts God\u2019s strength
\nsurvives
And victory\u2019s star still lights our desperate road;
\n
Our death is made a passage to new worlds. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nto Life\u2019s music gives its anthem swell. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nGrief
\ndoes not kill; man survives the worst attacks of grief, for behind
\ngrief\u2014which is a surface deformation\u2014there is a joy of existence.
\nAll is created by the Divine and nothing created by Him is without
\npurpose; that is why even in the hour of defeat there is a sustaining
\nreserve of strength within. An ultimate victory beckons man to
\npersist and traverse the paths however difficult. Even what appears
\nto be a total cessation of life\u2014death\u2014is converted into a passage
\nto greater and freer planes of existence.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nThis
\ntruth, the divine element in creation, is what gives fullness and
\nirresistible power to Life.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nTo
\nall she lends the glory of her voice;
Heaven\u2019s raptures whisper
\nto her heart and pass,
Earth\u2019s transient yearnings cry from her
\nlips and fade. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIt
\nis Life that imparts dynamism and effectuation to all urges for
\nexpression whether from above or from below. The joys and ecstasies
\nfrom the higher worlds come close to her and pass; the brief longings
\nof material earth articulate themselves through her and fade away. To
\nboth Life lends herself and provides the means and the opportunity
\nfor manifestation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAlone
\nthe God-given hymn escapes her art
That came with her from her
\nspiritual home
But stopped half-way and failed, a silent word
\n
Awake in some deep pause of waiting worlds,
A murmur
\nsuspended in eternity\u2019s hush: <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\narticulates and gives form to many cravings but;; the truth with
\nwhich she was charged when she issued out of the supreme creative
\nReality remains unexpressed. That Word of truth was lost in the
\ndevolutionary course and it still awaits in the profound ranges of
\nthe Unmanifest.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nBut
\nno breath comes from the supernal peace:
A sumptuous interlude
\noccupies the ear
And the heart listens and the soul consents;
An
\nevanescent music it repeats
Wasting on transience Time\u2019s
\neternity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


\n
Screens
\nthe Intended Theme<\/B>A tremolo of the voices of the hours Oblivious
\nscreens the high intended themeThe self-embodying spirit came to play
\nOn the vast clavichord of Nature-Force.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThe
\nSpirit embodies itself in order to play its Harmonies, manifest its
\ntruths. Nature provides the needed instruments.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOnly
\na mighty murmur here and there
Of the eternal Word, the blissful
\nVoice
Or Beauty\u2019s touch transfiguring heart and sense,
A
\nwandering splendour and a mystic cry,
Recalls the strength and
\nsweetness heard no more. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nlost might and sweetness, however, are not completely forgotten. As
\nif to remind Life of their existence somewhere\u2014and the possibility
\nof actualising them\u2014there is an inarticulate hearing of the
\ndeathless Sound, nada, here and there. A soulful strain of Delight, a
\ntouch of Beauty captivating the eye and the heart, an errant Glory, a
\nmystic note of Call, all these testify to a Splendour lost by Life
\nbut seeking to be born anew.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nHere
\nis the gap, here stops or sinks life\u2019s force;
This deficit
\npaupers the magician\u2019s skill:
This want makes all the rest seem
\nthin and bare. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIt
\nis this gulf between what sought to manifest and what actually Life
\nhas been able to build, that is responsible for the indigent
\ncharacter of this creation. Life, as it is, is unable to rise higher,
\nevoke into manifestation the greater verities and support their
\npressure of formation.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nhalf-sight draws the horizon of her acts:
Her depths remember
\nwhat she came to do,
But the mind has forgotten or the heart
\nmistakes:
In Nature\u2019s endless lines is lost the God. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nvision of Life is clipped and naturally her action is correspondingly
\nstunted. Though the knowledge of the mission with which she was
\ncharged is there at the core of her being, she has no active memory
\nof it in her mind; her feelings are too mixed to read and be guided
\naright. Consequently the Soul that has come on the steed of Life is
\nlost in the labyrinthine profusions of the paths and bypaths of
\nNature.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nknowledge to sum up omniscience,
In action to erect the
\nOmnipotent,
To create her Creator here was her heart\u2019s conceit,
\n
To invade the cosmic scene with utter God. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nfond hope with which Life started her toil was this: to set the
\nsupreme omniscience of the Divine Consciousness working spontaneously
\nin the faculty of knowledge here below, to reveal the omnipotence of
\nthe Divine Force in all action here below. In a word she desired to
\nmanifest in the cosmos the creative Godhead in all his Glory.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nToiling
\nto transform the still far Absolute
Into an all-fulfilling
\nepiphany,
Into an utterance of the Ineffable,
She would bring
\nthe glory here of the Absolute\u2019s force,
Change poise into
\ncreation\u2019s rhythmic swing,
Marry with a sky of calm a sea of
\nbliss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nShe
\nhas striven to give full expression to the far-off Absolute and
\nIneffable Reality here in this creation, to bring down the Supreme’s
\nForce here in the cosmos. She has sought to induce the static state
\nof the Supreme to move into a dynamic creative condition, to bring
\nabout a fruitful unification between his state of a still calm and
\nhis vast motion of creative Bliss.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nfire to call eternity into Time,
Make body\u2019s joy as vivid as
\nthe soul\u2019s,
Earth she would lift to neighbourhood with heaven,
\n
Labours life to equate with the Supreme
And reconcile the
\nEternal and the Abyss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nis astir with an aspiration to invoke the Eternal to pour itself into
\nTime, to bring the material consciousness in tune with the spiritual
\nso that the joy that is natural to the soul could be equally native
\nto the body. She would be the bridge between Earth and Heaven and
\nuplift Earth to the heights and joys of Heaven. She works to heal the
\ngulf between this world here and the Supreme on high, between the
\nabyss of nescience below and the summit of the superconscience above.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nHer
\npragmatism of the transcendent Truth
Fills silence with the
\nvoices of the gods,
But in the cry the single Voice is lost.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nwould not leave the Truth that transcends all to remain in its
\nsoleness. She seeks to draw it, its Light and Power, into her
\ncreation. The Gods, the many aspects and personalities of the
\nSupreme, come into being in answer to her call But amidst this
\nmultitude of Gods and their Powers, the One Reality is pushed behind
\nthe veil, the one Person is lost behind his various personalities.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nFor
\nNature\u2019s vision climbs beyond her acts. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\nlife of gods in heaven she sees above,
A demi-god emerging from
\nan ape
Is all she can in our mortal element. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


\nThe
\nactual is never the limit of Nature. She always looks beyond it, for
\ngreater possibles ever beckon her. Life sees the order of the gods
\nabove her own domain; below, she sees man who has just emerged from
\nthe animal stage of evolution, but she perceives that he has the
\nmakings of a god in him. In her own realm, the highest that this
\ngreater Life has been able to achieve in her search for perfection is
\nthe half-god and the half-titan in whom manifest both Light and
\nDarkness, both Good and Evil.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nA
\npoignant paradox pursues her dreams:
Her hooded energy moves an
\nignorant world
To look for a joy her own strong clasp puts off:
\n
In her embrace it cannot turn to its source. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\ntragic contradiction characterises the movements of this greater
\nLife. What she seeks is in constant variance to what she does. By her
\nhidden force she throws this ignorant world into a ferment in her
\nfrantic search for perennial joy, but that joy remains out of her
\nreach because of her very frenzy, her eager clutchings of desire. The
\nworld moves helplessly in its never-ending round, unable to turn to
\nthe source of Joy within.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nImmense
\nher power, endless her act\u2019s vast drive,
Astray is its
\nsignificance and lost. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAlthough
\nshe carries in her secret breast
The law and journeying curve of
\nall things born
Her knowledge partial seems, her purpose small;
\n
On a soil of yearning tread her sumptuous hours. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\npower of this greater Life is immense and the range of her forceful
\nactions vast; but the direction, the meaning of it all is not
\nevident. It is well-nigh lost. Indeed the purpose, the governing
\ntruth and the direction are there in the depths of her being but she
\nis not aware of them on her surface levels. Here her knowledge seems
\nto be but partial and her purpose limited. Underneath there is the
\nseeking, an intense want, but on the surface, Life seems to loll
\nleisurely, abundantly.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nleaden Nescience weighs the wings of Thought,
Her power oppresses
\nthe being with its garbs,
Her action prisons its immortal gaze.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nweight of Inconscience at the base of this material creation pulls
\ndownwards every formation, every movement. In its various forms of
\nignorance, obscurity, decay and the like, it arrests the free
\nmovement of the faculties, thought, sight etc. and limits their range
\nof action.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nsense of limit haunts her masteries
And nowhere is assured
\ncontent or peace:
For all the depth and beauty of her work
A
\nwisdom lacks that sets the spirit free. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nis admittedly masterful in her workings, but she is always hedged in
\nby various limitations\u2014limitations of the material on which she
\nworks, limitations 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
He
\nAsks for a Deeper Joy<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAn
\nold and faded charm had now her face
And palled for him her quick
\nand curious lore;
His wide soul asked a deeper joy than hers.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOut
\nof her daedal lines he sought escape;
But neither gate of horn
\nnor ivory
He found nor postern of spiritual sight. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nwas no issue from that dreamlike space. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nis no more held by the novel and picturesque creation of this greater
\nLife. Things begin to pall. His large being looks for a deeper joy
\nthan what Life can give. He wants to break away from her intricate
\nand complex hold, but finds no appointed doors of exit; neither does
\nhe find any opening of spiritual sight that could help him out. He
\nsees that this enchanting scene leads nowhere.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOur
\nbeing must move eternally through Time;
Death helps us not, vain
\nis the hope to cease;
A secret Will compels us to endure.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOur
\nlife\u2019s repose is in the Infinite;
It cannot end, its end is
\nLife supreme. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nCast
\nin this field of Evolution we have to keep moving onward. What
\nappears like cessation in death does not really put a full stop to
\nthings. There is no halt because there is a definite goal to be
\nreached: a freedom in the Infinite and a perfect life in the Divine.
\nAll along there is a divine Will in the depths of our being
\ncompelling us to strive and endure, sustaining us in our labour till
\nthe purpose is fulfilled.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nDeath
\nis a passage, not the goal of our walk:
Some ancient deep
\nimpulsion labours on:
Our souls are dragged as with a hidden
\nleash,
Carried from birth to birth, from world to world,
Our
\nacts prolong after the body\u2019s fall
The old perpetual journey
\nwithout pause. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nNo
\nsilent peak is found where Time can rest. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nDeath
\nis really not the end of our life. We do not have only one life to
\nlive, we have several lives across which the soul journeys, gathering
\nexperience, growing towards full embodied divinity Death is a passage
\nfrom one life to another, from this physical world on earth to other
\nworlds above where we repair for rest and assimilation before the
\nnext birth is undertaken. Our souls are charged with this mission of
\ndivinity at the very start of their career by the Supreme (of whom
\nthey are emanations) and this original impulsion goads them on.
\nBesides the Karma done in each life does not end with death. It
\ncontinues in its consequences and forges further lives to work itself
\nout.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nThis
\nwas a magic stream that reached no sea. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHowever
\nfar he went, wherever turned,
The wheel of works ran with him and
\noutstripped;
Always a farther task was left to do. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


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


\nA
\nbeat of action and a cry of search
For ever grew in that unquiet
\nworld;
A busy murmur filled the heart of Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nwas contrivance and unceasing stir. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthis world of greater Life there is everywhere and always a ceaseless
\nactivity, a note of search, a pervading restlessness. Things are
\nsomehow managed, but there is no satisfaction of fulfilment.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nhundred ways to live were tried in vain:
A sameness that assumed
\na thousand forms
Strove to escape from its long monotone
And
\nmade new things that soon were like the old. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\nconstant experiment goes on in this world of greater Life. There is
\nan urge for variety, for novelty. Multiple movements take shape. But
\nvery soon the newness wears out and all sinks back into stale
\nroutine.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\ncurious decoration lured the eye
And novel values furbished
\nancient themes
To cheat the mind with the idea of change.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nA
\ndifferent picture that was still the same
Appeared upon the
\ncosmic vague background. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThere
\nis an attractive ornamentation of things. Old movements are placed in
\nnew settings. 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
Another
\nLabyrinthine House<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOnly
\nanother labyrinthine house
Of creatures and their doings and
\nevents,
A city of the traffic of bound souls,
A market of
\ncreation and her wares
Was offered to the labouring mind and
\nheart. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nworld turns out to be yet another crowded, hectic, criss-crossed
\nrealm where there is no worthwhile achievement, no freedom. All the
\nlabour of the creation and the questing spirit comes to little more
\nthan a hubbub of forms and movements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\ncircuit ending where it first began
Is dubbed the forward and
\neternal march
Of progress on perfection\u2019s unknown road.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthis world of Ignorance most movements are in circles; they turn
\nround and round. There is an appearance of forward movement, a
\nconstant progression, but very often things come back to where they
\nstarted from.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\n(It
\nis only meaningful movements that register an upward direction even
\nwhen they move in circles; such movements are really spiral and not
\nmerely circular.)<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEach
\nfinal scheme leads to a sequel plan. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nYet
\nevery new departure seems the last,
Inspired evangel, theory\u2019s
\nultimate peak,
Proclaiming a panacea for all Time\u2019s ills
Or
\ncarrying thought in its ultimate zenith flight
And trumpeting
\nsupreme discovery; <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nNothing
\nreally meets the situation in this world. Each plan seems to be the
\nfinal, all-sufficient remedy, but as it is worked, its inadequacies
\nreveal themselves and a subsequent plan becomes necessary.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nAnd
\nso it goes on. At the time each scheme is launched, it is taken as
\nthe all-time solution of all the ills that beset man, the very acme
\nof planning, but ultimately it turns out to be only one more
\nineffective attempt that must inevitably be followed by another.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nEach
\nbrief idea, a structure perishable,
Publishes the immortality of
\nits rule,
Its claim to be the perfect form of things,
Truth\u2019s
\nlast epitome, Time\u2019s golden best. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nEach
\nidea that comes fathering such schemes, though it is only a temporary
\nconstruction of the mind, claims to be an everlasting verity, and
\ndemands allegiance as the most perfect, the best formulation of the
\ntruth.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nBut
\nnothing has been achieved of infinite worth:
A world made ever
\nanew, never complete,
Piled always half-attempts on lost attempts
\n
And saw a fragment as the eternal Whole. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAswapathy
\nsees that in spite of all the hectic doings and goings on, nothing of
\nlasting value has been achieved in this world of greater Life. Things
\nare being constantly made and remade but never completed; failures
\nare followed by reluctant attempts again and again; parts are
\nmistaken for the whole.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\nthe aimless mounting total of things done
Existence seemed a vain
\nnecessity\u2019s act,
A wrestle of eternal opposites
In a
\nclasped antagonism\u2019s close-locked embrace,
A play without
\ndenouement or idea,
A hunger march of lives without a goal,
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


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


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


\nOr,
\nwritten on a bare black board of Space,
A futile and recurring
\nsum of souls,
A hope that failed, a light that never shone,
The
\nlabour of an unaccomplished Force
Tied to its acts in a dim
\neternity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIt
\nis a picture of futility, repetition without issue, unfulfilled hope,
\nfailing light; there is only the ceaseless and helpless toil of a
\nForce that never arrives at its objective.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThere
\nis no end or none can yet be seen:
Although defeated, life must
\nstruggle on;
Always she sees a crown she cannot grasp;
Her
\neyes are fixed beyond her fallen state. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nReally
\nthere is no end to the labours of life, at any rate it is not yet
\nperceivable. Whatever the failures, life is obliged to continue her
\nstruggle. She is constantly drawn by some prospect of glory that she
\nglimpses but which always eludes her. Her vision looks beyond her
\npresent state of fall.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


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


\nIn
\nthe breast of man, in the bosom of life, there is still the
\nremembrance of a glorious state that has been lost. There is also a
\ncall of some greatness from a realm beyond awaiting fulfilment, a
\ngreatness that is not yet attained by this world of chequered
\nmovements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\na memory behind our mortal sense
A dream persists of larger
\nhappier air
Breathing around free hearts of joy and love,
\n
Forgotten by us, immortal in lost Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nBehind
\nthe exterior awareness of man, there is a persistent sense of the
\ncertainty of a freer and happier existence in which joy and love are
\nspontaneous. It is a kind of memory of a state that the soul has lost
\nin its adventure, but which is there waiting to be recovered.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nghost of bliss pursues her haunted depths;
For she remembers
\nstill though now so far
Her realm of golden ease and glad desire
\n
And the beauty and strength and happiness that were hers
In
\nthe sweetness of her glowing paradise,
In her kingdom of immortal
\necstasy
Half-way between God\u2019s silence and the Abyss. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nLife
\nhas a strong memory of her original state of will, power and bliss
\nbefore she got completely separated from her source in the
\nTruth-Consciousness in the course of her descent from the profound
\npeaks of Superconscience to the depths of Nescience. This memory
\nhaunts her and she strives to regain that state of unfettered and
\nunvitiated play.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThis
\nknowledge in our hidden parts we keep;
Awake to a vague mystery\u2019s
\nappeal,
We meet a deep unseen Reality
Far truer than the
\nworld\u2019s face of present Truth:
We are chased by a self we
\ncannot now recall
And moved by a Spirit we must still become.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nMan
\nhas these memories stored in the deeper parts of his being which are
\nbehind the veil of the exterior. That is why he responds to the call
\nof the Mysterious and somewhere his being comes into contact with a
\nReality that is not seen but is nevertheless more real, more full
\nthan the incomplete and fragmented truth of the present state of the
\nuniverse. Man has forgotten his true self but that self drives him on
\nthe quest for self-recovery. He is impelled by the Spirit that seeks
\nembodiment in him.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nAs
\none who has lost the kingdom of his soul,
We look back to some
\ngod-phase of our birth
Other than this imperfect creature here
\n
And hope in this or a diviner world
To recover yet from
\nHeaven\u2019s patient guard
What by our mind\u2019s forgetfulness we
\nmiss, <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nMan
\nhas some recollection somewhere in his being of a happier and more
\nelevated godly state that he has enjoyed before he forfeited it and
\nfell to his present state of imperfection. He misses it and hopes and
\nstrives to regain that forgotten condition either here while on earth
\nor in diviner worlds after death.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOur
\nbeing\u2019s natural felicity,
Our heart\u2019s delight we have
\nexchanged for grief,
The body\u2019s thrill we bartered for mere
\npain,
The bliss for which our mortal nature yearns
As yearns
\nan obscure moth to blazing Light. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nclings
\nto grief instead. The joyous thrill that was natural to the body has
\nbeen displaced by pain. But his nature remembers its rightful bliss
\nand longs for it even though in its present unpurified and
\nuntransformed condition it would not be able to bear it.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nOur
\nlife is a march to a victory never won. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThis
\nwave of being longing for delight,
This eager turmoil of
\nunsatisfied strengths,
These long far files of forward-striving
\nhopes
Lift worshipping eyes to the blue Void called heaven
\n
Looking for the golden Hand that never came,
The advent for
\nwhich all creation waits,
The beautiful visage of Eternity
That
\nshall appear upon the roads of Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nMan
\nstrives for fulfilment but is not able to achieve it. His being seeks
\nfor delight, 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
Man’s
\nFaith (I)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nYet
\nstill to ourselves we say rekindling faith,
\u201cOh, surely one day
\nhe shall come to our cry,
One day he shall create our life anew
\n
And utter the magic formula of peace
And bring perfection to
\nthe scheme of things. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThough
\nthus disappointed and frustrated, man repeatedly affirms to himself
\nhis inborn faith in the certainty of the divine response to his call.
\nHe affirms 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
Man’s
\nFaith (II)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOne
\nday he shall descend to life and earth,
Leaving the secrecy of
\nthe eternal doors,
Into a world that cries to him for help,
And
\nbring the truth that sets the spirit free,
The joy that is the
\nbaptism of the soul,
The strength that is the outstretched arm of
\nLove. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nMan
\nhas the confident faith that one day the Divine will come down from
\nhis transcendent spheres to this world that cries out to him for
\nsuccour and uplift\u2014for only then can the world be redeemed; that he
\nwill bring the truth that liberates\u2014for only truth can free the
\nsoul imprisoned 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
Man’s
\nFaith (III)<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nOne
\nday he shall lift his beauty\u2019s dreadful veil,
Impose delight on
\nthe world\u2019s beating heart
And bare his secret body of light and
\nbliss.\u201d <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nHe
\nhas faith that one day the Divine will freely manifest himself in
\nthis world, reveal his Beauty rending the veil of ugliness that has
\ncovered it in this field of Ignorance, cast his Delight on the aching
\nheart of life, and show his real form of Light and Bliss on this
\nscene of darkness and suffering.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nBut
\nnow we strain to reach an unknown goal:
There is no end of
\nseeking and of birth,
There is no end of dying and return;
The
\nlife that wins its aim asks greater aims,
The life that fails and
\ndies must live again;
Till it has found itself it cannot cease.
\n<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nmust be done for which life and death were made. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThat
\nglorious manifestation, however, is still far-off. In the meanwhile
\nman must go on striving towards a goal which is yet not clear. There
\nis no respite allowed. He is born, he seeks, he dies only to return
\nto the scene of his toils. If he succeeds in achieving his immediate
\naim, a greater aim arises before him; if he fails, he must try
\nanew\u2014in the present birth or the next. He cannot cease till he
\nfinds the truth of his being. Life is given to man and death imposed
\non purpose. They are the processes through which he is to work out
\nhis self-discovery and win the truth of his existence.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nBut
\nwho shall say that even then is rest? <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOr
\nthere repose and action are the same
In the deep breast of God\u2019s
\nsupreme delight. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nEven
\nafter man finds the truth that he seeks, is it certain that he will
\nrest? In that state of being and consciousness, there is really no
\ndifference between action and repose. For all is upheld by the Being
\nof Delight; and in that supreme Delight of Existence, activity and
\nrest are but the forward and backward flowings of the same wave of
\nBliss. They are not two different and exclusive movements.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nIn
\na high state where ignorance is no more,
Each movement is a wave
\nof peace and bliss,
Repose God\u2019s motionless creative force,
\n
Action a ripple in the Infinite
And birth a gesture of
\nEternity. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nIn
\nthat high state of consciousness where the last shadows of Ignorance
\nare overpassed, every movement is a wave of peace and bliss.
\nIgnorance being no more, there is no strife, no pain. Rest is a state
\nwithout motion of the creative force, but is fully potent all the
\nsame; action is a local stir in the waters of the Infinite hardly
\ndisturbing the ocean; appearance in Time is a willed movement of the
\nTimeless, not something fortuitous and momentary.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nsun of transfiguration still can shine
And Night can bare its
\ncore of mystic light;
The self-cancelling, self-afflicting
\nparadox
Into a self-luminous mystery might change,
The
\nimbroglio into a joyful miracle. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nglorious prospect is there, and is confidently awaited, when the
\nsupreme Light can radiate and change all and the Darkness dissolve
\nrevealing the light of the Spirit concealed in its bosom, when the
\napparently self-defeating paradox of life may show its profound
\ncharacter as a purposive formulation of consciousness and all
\nhopeless confusion yield to a joyous order.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nThen
\nGod could be visible here, here take a shape;
Disclosed would be
\nthe spirit\u2019s identity;
Life would reveal her true immortal
\nface. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThen
\ncan be the plenary manifestation of the Divine, the formless Spirit
\nrevealed in form. That the Divine Spirit is omnipresent and within
\nall that is here will be openly seen. Life will put off her present
\nmask of limitation and death and reveal her true visage as a Power of
\nthe Immortal.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nBut
\nnow a termless labour is her fate:
In its recurrent decimal of
\nevents
Birth, death appear as its vibrating points;
The old
\nquestion-mark margins each finished page,
Each volume of her
\neffort\u2019s history. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nMeanwhile,
\nLife has to 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
All
\nSeems in Vain<\/B><\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


\nA
\nlimping Yes through the aeons journeys still
Accompanied by an
\neternal No. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAll
\nseems in vain, yet endless is the game. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nImpassive
\nturns the ever-circling Wheel,
Life has no issue, death brings no
\nrelease. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nEvery
\naffirmation of Life, however halting, brings a negation in its
\nwake\u2014birth is followed by death, success by failure and so on. And
\nso the journey goes on and on, apparently in vain. The Wheel of Life
\nturns on its course indifferent to what ensues from its movement. The
\nrelentless effort of Life achieves no result, and death brings no
\nrelease either.<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/P>
\n


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


\nA
\nprisoner of itself the being lives
And keeps its futile
\nimmortality;
Extinction is denied, its sole escape. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nAn
\nerror of the gods has made the world. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nOr
\nindifferent the Eternal watches Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT><\/p>\n


\nThe
\nsoul is a prisoner shut up in its encasement. Its innate immortality
\nis of little practical consequence in this mechanical round of life
\nand death. It cannot end itself and thus escape. It looks as if the
\nwhole world were the result of some error of the creating Gods, or
\nthat the Eternal were indifferent to what takes place in Time. <\/FONT><\/FONT>
\n<\/P>
\n



\n<\/P>\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n

<\/td>\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-10684","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\/10684","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=10684"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10684\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11089,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10684\/revisions\/11089"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10684"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10684"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10684"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}