{"id":1277,"date":"2013-07-13T01:33:48","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:33:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=1277"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:33:48","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:33:48","slug":"28-the-breath-of-greater-life-vol-09-the-future-poetry-volume-09","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/01-sabcl\/09-the-future-poetry-volume-09\/28-the-breath-of-greater-life-vol-09-the-future-poetry-volume-09","title":{"rendered":"-28_The Breath of Greater Life.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n
\n
\n


\nc<\/font>hapter<\/font>
\n<\/font>
\n<\/span><\/span>XXVII<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n


\nThe Breath of Greater Life<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n            T<\/font><\/span>HE turn of poetry in the age which we have now left behind, was,
\nas was inevitable in a reign of dominant intellectuality, a pre-occupation with
\nreflective thought and there\u00adfore with truth, but it was not at its core and in
\nits essence a poetic thought and truth and its expression, however artistically
\ndressed with image and turn or enforced by strong or dexterous phrase, however
\nfrequently searching, apt or picturesque, had not often, except in one or two
\nexceptional voices, the most moving and intimate tones of poetry. The poets of
\nthe middle nineteenth century in England and America philosophised, moralised
\nor criticised life in energetic and telling or beautiful and attractive or
\ncompetent and cultured verse; but they did not represent life with success or
\ninterpret it with high poetic power or inspired insight and were not stirred
\nand uplifted by any deeply great vision of truth. The reasoning and observing
\nintellect is a most necessary and serviceable instrument, but an excess of
\nreason and intellectuality does not create an atmosphere favourable to moved
\nvision and the uplifting breath of life, and for all its great stir of progress
\nand discovery that age, the carnival of industry and science, gives us who are
\nin search of more living, inner and potent things the impression of a brazen
\nflavour, a heavy air, an inhibition of the greater creative movements, a level
\nspirit of utility and prose. The few poets who strained towards a nearer hold
\nupon life, had to struggle against this atmosphere which weighed upon their
\nmind and clogged their breath. Whitman, striving by stress of thought towards a
\ngreater truth of the soul and life, found refuge in a revolutionary breaking
\nout into new anarchic forms, a vindication of freedom of movement which
\nunfortunately at its ordinary levels brings us nearer to the earth and not
\nhigher up towards a more illumined air; Swinburne, excited by the lyric fire
\nwithin him, <\/p>\n

\n                                                                                                                Page \u2013 223<\/span> <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

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had too often to lash himself into a strained
\nviolence of passion in order to make a way through the clogging thickness for
\nits rush of sound; Meredith’s strains hymning life in a word burdened and
\npacked with thought, are strong and intimate, but difficult and few. And
\ntherefore in this epoch of a bursting into new fields and seeking for new finer
\nand bolder impulses of creation, one of the most insistent demands and needs of
\nthe human mind, not only in poetry, but in thought itself and in spirit, has
\nbeen to lessen the tyranny of the reasoning and cri\u00adtical intellect, to return
\nto the power and sincerity of life and come by a greater deepness of the
\nintuition of its soul of meaning. That is the most striking turn of all recent
\nwriting of any impor\u00adtance.<\/p>\n

This turn is in itself perfectly sound and its
\ndirection is to a certain extent on the right line, even if it does not yet
\naltogether see its own end. But the firm grasp on a greater life has not quite
\ncome and there are many mistaken directions of this urge. The enlightening
\npower of the poet’s creation is vision of truth, its moving power is a passion
\nof beauty and delight, but its sustain\u00ading power and that which makes it great
\nand vital is the breath of life. A poetry which is all thought and no life or a
\nthought which does not constantly keep in touch with and refresh itself from
\nthe fountains of life, even if it is something more than a strong, elegant or
\ncultured philosophising or moralising in skilled verse, even if it has vision and
\nintellectual beauty, suffers always by lack of fire and body, wants perfection
\nof grasp and does not take full hold on the inner being to seize and uplift as
\nwell as sweeten and illumine, as poetry should do and all great poetic writing
\ndoes, The function of the poet even when he is most absorbed in think\u00ading, is
\nstill to bring out not merely the truth and interest, but the beauty and power
\nof the thought, its life and emotion, and not only to do that, not only to make
\nthe thought a beautiful and living thing, but to make it one thing with life.
\nBut words are ambiguous things and we must see what is the full extent of our
\nmeaning when we say, as we may say, that the poet’s first concern and his
\nconcern always is with living beauty and reality, with life.<\/p>\n

As we can say that the truth with
\nwhich poetry is touched <\/p>\n

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\n

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is an infinite truth, all the truth that lives in the eternal and
\nuniversal and fills, informs, vivifies, holds and shapes the spirit and form of
\ncreation, so we may say too that the life, something of which the poet has to
\nre-embody in the beauty of the word, is all life, the infinite life of the
\nspirit thrown out in its many creations. The poet’s business most really, most
\nintimately is not with the outward physical life as it is or the life of the
\npassions and emotions only for its own sake or even with some ideal 1ife imaged
\nby the mind or some combining and new shaping of these things into a form of
\nbeauty, but with the life of the soul and with these other things only as its
\nexpressive forms. Poetry is the rhythmic voice of life, but it is one of the
\ninner and not one of the surface voices. And the more of this inner truth of
\nhis function the poet brings out in his work, the greater is his creation,
\nwhile it does not seem to matter essentially or not at the first whether his
\nmethod is professedly subjective or objective, his ostensible power that of a
\nmore outward or a more inward spirit or whether it is the individual or the
\ngroup soul or the soul of Nature or mankind or the eternal and universal spirit
\nin theme whose beauty and living reality find expression in his word. This
\nuniversal truth of poetry is apt to be a little hidden from by the form us and
\nstress of preoccupation with this or that medium of outward soul-expression in
\nthe poet’s work. Mankind in its development seems to begin with the most
\noutward things and go always more and more inward in order that the race may
\nmount to greater heights of the spirit’s life. An early poetry therefore is
\nmuch occupied with a simple, natural, straightforward, external presentation of
\nlife. A primitive epic bard like Homer<\/span>
\nthinks only by the way and seems to be carried constantly forward in the stream
\nof his strenuous action and to cast out as he goes only so much of surface
\nthought and character and feeling as obviously emerges in a strong and single
\nand natural speech and action. And yet it is the adventures and trials and
\nstrength and courage of the soul of man in Odysseus which makes the greatness
\nof the Odyssey and not merely the vivid incident and picturesque surrounding
\ncircumstance, and it is the clash of great and strong spirits with the gods
\nleaning down to participate in their struggle which makes the greatness of the
\nIliad and not merely the action <\/p>\n

Page \u2013 225<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

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and stir of battle. The outward form of
\nShakespeare\u2019s work is a surge of emotion and passion and thought and act and
\nevent <\/i>arising out of character at ferment in the yeast of feeling and
\npassion, but it is its living interpretation of the truth and powers of the
\nlife-soul of man that are the core of greatness of his work and the rest
\nwithout it would be a vain brute turmoil. The absence or defect of this greater
\nelement makes indeed the immense inferiority of the rest of Elizabethan
\ndramatic work. And<\/span> whatever the
\noutward character or form of the poetry, the same law holds that poetry is a
\nself-expressive power of the spirit and where the soul of things is most
\nrevealed in its very life by the rhythmic word, there is the fullest
\nachievement of the poet’s function.<\/p>\n

And so long as the poet’s medium is the outward
\nlife of things or the surface inward life of the passions and emotions, he is
\nmoving in a strong and fresh natural element and in an undivided wholeness of
\nthe inner and outer man, and his work, given the native power in him, has all
\nthe vitality of a thing fully felt and lived. But when intellectual thought has
\nbegun its reign in the mind of a more cultured race, the poet’s difficulty also
\nbegins and increases as that reign becomes more sovereign and imperative. For
\nintellectual thought makes a sort of scission in\u00a0 <\/span>our being and on one side of the line is the
\nvital urge carrying on life and on the other side the deliberate detached
\nreason trying to observe it, take an intelligent view and extract from it all
\nits thought values. The poet, as a child of the age and one of its voices, is
\nmoved to follow this turn. He too observes life, extracts the thought values of
\nhis theme, criticises while attempting to create, or even lingers to analyse
\nhis living subject, as Browning is constantly doing with the thinking and
\nfeeling mind of his characters. But this can only be done without detriment to
\nthe vital power of the poetic spirit and the all-seizing effect of its word,
\nwhen there is a balance maintained between thought and life, the life passing
\ninto self-observing thought and the thought returning on the life to shape it
\nin its own vital image. It has been remarked that the just balance between
\nthought and the living word was found by the Greeks and not again. That is
\nperhaps an excessive affirmation, but certainly a just balance between
\nobserving thought and life is the distinctive effort of <\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 226<\/span><\/span><\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

<\/span><\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

classical poetry and that endeavour gave it its stamp whether in
\nAthens or Rome or in much of the epic or classical literature of ancient India.
\nBut this balance is easily lost, a difficult thing, and, once it has gone,
\nthought begins to overweight life which loses its power and elan and joy, its
\nvigorous natural body and its sincere and satisfied passion and force. We get
\nmore of studies of life than of creation, thought about the meaning of
\ncharacter and emotion and event and elaborate description rather than the
\nliving presence of these things. Passion, direct feeling, ardent emotion,
\nsincerity of sensuous joy are chilled by the observing eye of the reason and
\ngive place to a play of sentiment, \u2014 sentiment which is an indulgence of the
\nintelligent observing mind in the aesthesis, the rasa<\/i> of feeling,
\npassion, emotion, sense thinning them away into a subtle, at the end almost
\nunreal fineness. There is then an attempt to get back to the natural fullness
\nof the vital and physical life, but the endeavour fails in sincerity and
\nsuccess because it is impossible; the mind of man having got so far cannot
\nreturn upon its course, undo what it has made of itself and recover the glad
\nchildhood of its early vigorous nature. There is instead of the simplicity of
\nspontaneous life a search after things striking, exaggerated, abnormal,
\nviolent, new, in the end a morbid fastening on perversities, on all that is
\nugly, glaring and coarse on the plea of their greater reality, on exaggeration
\nof vital instinct and sensation, on physical wrynesses and crudities and things
\nunhealthily strange. The thought-mind, losing the natural full-blooded power of
\nthe vital being, pores on these things, stimulates the failing blood with them
\nand gives itself an illusion of some forceful sensation of living. This is not
\nthe real issue, but the way to exhaustion and decadence.<\/p>\n

The demand for life, for action, the tendency to a
\npragmatic and vitalistic view of things, a certain strenuous and even strident
\nnote has been loud enough in recent years. Life, action, vital power are great
\nindispensable things, but to get back to them by thinking less is a way not
\nopen to us in this age of time, even if it were a desirable remedy for our
\ndisease of over-intellectuality and a mechanised existence. In fact we do not
\nthink less than the men of the past generation but much more insistently, with
\na more packed and teeming thought, with a more eager, more <\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 227<\/span><\/span><\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

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\n

<\/span><\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

absorbed hunting of the mind along all the royal
\nhigh-roads and alluring byways of life. And it could not be otherwise. The very
\nschool of poetry which insists on actual life as the subject matter of the poet
\ncarries into it with or without conscious intention the straining of the
\nthought mind after something quite other than the obvious sense of the things
\nit tries to force into relief, some significance deeper than what either the
\nobserving reason or the normal life-sense gives to our first or our second view
\nof existence. The way out lies not in cessation of thinking and the turn to a
\nstrenuous description of life, nor even in a more vitally forceful thinking,
\nbut in another kind of thought mind. The filled activity of the thinking mind
\nis as much part of life as that of then body and vital and emotional being, and
\nits growth and predominance are a necessary stage of human progress and man\u2019s
\nself-evolution. To go back from it is impossible or, if possible, would be
\nundesirable, a lapse and not a betterment of our spirit. But the full
\nthought-life does not come by the activity of the intellectual reason and its
\npredominance. That is only a step by which we get above the first immersion in
\nthe activity and excitement and vigour of the life and the body and give
\nourselves a first freedom to turn to a greater and higher reach of the fullness
\nof existence. And that higher reach we gain when we get above the limited crude
\nphysical mind, above the vital power and its forceful thought and self-vision,
\nabove the intellect and its pondering and measuring reason, and tread the
\nillumined realm of an intuitive and spiritual thinking, an intuitive feeling,
\nsense and vision. This is not that vital intuition which is sometimes confused
\nwith a much broader, loftier, vaster and more seeing power, but the high
\noriginal power itself, a supra-intellectual and spiritual intuition. The
\nall-informing spirit, when found <\/i>in all its fullness, heals the scission
\nbetween thought and life the need of a just balance between them disappears,
\ninstead there begins a new and luminous and joyful fusion and oneness. The
\nspirit gives us not only a greater light of truth and vision, but the breath of
\na greater living; for the spirit is not only the self of our consciousness and
\nknowledge, but the great self of life. <\/b>To<\/span> find our self and the self of things is not to go through a
\nrarefied ether of thought into Nirvana, but to discover the <\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 228<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n

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whole greatest
\nintegral power of our complete existence.<\/p>\n

This need is the sufficient reason for attaching
\nthe greatest importance to those poets in whom there is the double seeking of
\nthis twofold power, the truth and reality of the eternal self and spirit in man
\nand things and the insistence on life. All the most significant and vital work
\nin recent poetry has borne this stamp; the rest is of the hour, but this is of
\nthe future. It is the highest note of Whitman, widening, as in one who seeks
\nand sees much but has not fully found, a great pioneer poetry, an opening of a
\n<\/i>new view rather than a living in its accomplished fullness; it is
\nconstantly repeated from the earth side in Meredith, comes down from the
\nspiritual side in all A.E.\u2019s work, moves between earth and the life of the
\nworlds behind in Yeats\u2019 subtle rhythmic voices of vision and beauty, echoes
\nwith a large fullness in Carpenter. The poetry of Tagore owes its sudden and
\nuniversal success to this advantage that he gives us more of this discovery and
\nfusion for which the mind of our age is in quest than any other creative writer
\nof the time. His work is a constant music of the over\u00adpassing of the borders, a
\nchant-filled realm in which the subtle sounds and lights of the truth of the
\nspirit give new meanings to the finer subtleties of life. The objection has
\nbeen made that this poetry is too subtle and remote and goes away from the
\nbroad, near, present and vital actualities of existence. Yeats is considered by
\nsome a poet of Celtic romance and nothing more, Tagore accused in his own
\ncountry of an unsubstantial poetic philosophising, a lack of actuality, reality
\nof touch and force of vital insistence. But this is to mistake the work of this
\npoetry and to mistake too in a great measure the sense of life as it must
\nreveal itself to the greatening mind of humanity now that it is growing in
\nworld-knowledge and towards self-knowledge. These poets have not indeed done
\nall that has to be done or given the complete poetic synthesis and fusion.
\nTheir work has been to create a new and deeper manner of seeing life, to build
\nbridges of visioned light and rhythm between the infinite and eternal and the
\nmind and soul and life of man. The future poetry has not to stay in their
\nachievement, but to step from these first fields into new and yet greater
\nranges, to fathom all the depths yet un-plumbed, to complete what has been left
\nhalf done or not yet <\/p>\n

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\n

<\/span><\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

done, to bring all it can of the power of man’s
\ngreater self and the universal spirit into the broadest all of life. That
\ncannot and will not be achieved in its fullness all at once, but to make a
\nfoundation of this new infinite range of poetic vision and creation is work
\nenough to give greatness to a whole age.<\/p>\n

The demand for activity and realism or for a
\ndirect, exact and forceful presentation of life in poetry proceeds upon a false
\nsense of what poetry gives or can give us. All the highest activities of the
\nmind of man deal with things other than the crude actuality or the direct
\nappearance or the first rough appeal of existence. A critical or a scientific
\nthought may attempt to give an account of the actuality as it really is, though
\neven to do that they have to go far behind its frontage and make a mental
\nreconstruction and surprising change in its appearance. But the creative powers
\ncannot stop there, but have to make new things for us as well as to make
\nexisting things new to the mind and eye. It is no real portion of the function
\nof art to cut out palpitating pieces from life and present them raw and smoking
\nor well-cooked for the aesthetic digestion. For in the first place all art has
\nto give us beauty and the crude actuality of life is not often beautiful, and
\nin the second place poetry has to give us a deeper reality of things and the
\noutsides and surface faces of life are only a part of its reality and do not
\ntake us either very deep or very far. Moreover, the poet’s greatest work is to
\nopen to us new realms of vision, new realms of being, our own and the world\u2019s,
\nand he does this even when he is dealing with actual things. Homer with all his
\nepic vigour of outward presentation does not show us the heroes and deeds
\nbefore Troy in their actuality as they really were to the normal vision of men,
\nbut much rather as they were or might have been to the vision of the gods.
\nShakespeare’s greatness lies not in his reproduction of actual human events or
\nmen as they appear to us buttoned and cloaked in life, \u2014 others of his time
\ncould have done that as well, if with less radiant force of genius, yet with
\nmore of the realistic crude colour or humdrum drab of daily truth, \u2014 but in his
\nbringing out in his characters and themes of things essential, intimate,
\neternal, universal in man and Nature and Fate on which the outward features are
\nborne as fringe and robe and which belong to all <\/p>\n

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\n

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times, but are least obvious to the moment’s
\nexperience: when we do see them, life presents to us another face and becomes
\nsomething deeper than its actual present mask. That is why the poet oftenest
\ninstinctively prefers to go away from the obsession of a <\/i>petty
\nactuality, from the realism of the prose of life to his inner creative self or
\nan imaginative background of the past or the lucent air of myth or dream or on
\ninto a greater outlook on the future. Poetry may indeed deal with the present
\nliving scene, at some peril, or even with the social or other questions and pro\u00adblems
\nof the day, \u2014 a task which is now often laid on the creative mind, as if that
\nwere its proper work; but it does that success\u00adfully only when it makes as
\nlittle as possible of what belongs to the moment and time and the surface and
\nbrings out their roots of universal or eternal interest or their suggestion of
\ngreat and deep things. What the poet borrows from the moment, is the most
\nperishable part of his work and lives at all only by being subordinated and put
\ninto intimate relation with less transient realities. And this is so because it
\nis the eternal increasing soul of man and the intimate self of things and their
\nmore abiding and significant forms which are the real object of his vision.<\/p>\n

The poetry of the future can least afford to chain
\nitself to the outward actualities which we too often mistake for the whole of
\nlife, because it will be the voice of a human mind which is pressing more and
\nmore towards the very self of the self of things, the very spirit of which the
\nsoul of man is a living power and to a vision of unity and totality which is
\nbound to take note of all that lies behind our apparent material life. What man
\nsees and experiences of God and himself and his race and Nature and the
\nspiritual, mental, psychic and material worlds in which he moves, his backlook
\nupon the past, his sweep of vision over the present, his eye of aspiration and
\nprophecy cast towards the future, his passion of self-finding and self-exceeding,
\nhis reach beyond the three times to the eternal and immutable, this is his real
\nlife. Poetry in the past wrote much of the godheads and powers behind
\nexistence, but in the mask of legends and myths, sometimes of God, but not
\noften with a living experience, oftener in the set forms taught by religions
\nand churches and without true beauty and knowledge. But now the mind of man is
\nopening <\/p>\n

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<\/p>\n

\n

<\/span><\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

more largely to the deepest truth of the Divine,
\nthe Self, the\u00a0 <\/span>Spirit, the eternal Presence
\nnot separate and distant, but near us around us and in us, the Spirit in the
\nworld, the greater Self in man and his kind, the Spirit in all that is
\nand\/lives, the Godhead, the Existence, the Power, the Beauty, the eternal
\nDelight that broods over all, supports all and manifests itself in every turn
\nof\u00a0 <\/span>creation. A poetry which lives in
\nthis vision must give us quite a new presentation and interpretation of life;
\nfor of itself and at the first touch this seeing reconstructs and re-images the
\nworld for us and gives us a greater sense and a vaster, subtler and profounder
\nform of our existence. The real faces of the gods are growing more apparent to
\nthe eye of the mind, though not yet again intimate with our life, and the forms
\nof legend and symbol and myth must open to other and deeper meanings, as
\nalready they have begun to do, and come in changed and vital again into poetry
\nto interpret the realities behind the veil. Nature wears already to our eye a
\ngreater and more transparent robe of her divine and her animal and her
\nterrestrial and cosmic life and a deeper poetry of Nature than has yet been
\nwritten is one of the certain potentialities of the future. The material realm
\ntoo cannot for very much longer be our sole or separate world of experience, for
\nthe partitions which divide it from psychic and other kingdoms behind it are
\nwearing thin and voices and presences are beginning to break through and reveal
\ntheir impact on our world. This too must widen our conception of life and make
\na new world and atmosphere for poetry which may justify as perhaps never before
\nthe poet’s refusal to regard as unreal what to the normal mind was only
\nromance, illusion or dream. A larger field of being made more real to man’s
\nexperience will be the realm of the future poetry.<\/p>\n

These things are often given an appearance of
\nremoteness, of withdrawal from the actuality of life, because to discover them
\nthe mind had at first to draw away from the insistent outward preoccupation and
\nlive as if in a separate world. The seeker of the Self and Spirit, the
\nGod-lover, tended to become the cloistered monk, the ascetic, the mystic, the
\neremite and to set the spiritual apart from and against the material life. The
\nlover of\u00a0 <\/span>Nature went away from the noise
\nof man and daily things to <\/p>\n

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\n

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commune with her largeness and peace. The gods were found more in
\nthe lights of solitude than in the thoughts and actions of men. The seer of
\nother worlds lived surrounded by the voices and faces of supernature. And this
\nwas legitimate seclusion, for these are provinces and realms and presences and
\none has often to wander apart in them or live secluded with them to know their
\nnearest intimacies. The spirit is real in itself even apart from the world, the
\ngods have their own home beyond our sky and air, Nature her own self-absorbed
\nlife and supemature its brilliant curtains and its dim mysterious fences. None
\nof these things are unreal, and if the supernatural as handled by older poets
\nseemed often mere legend, fancy and romance, it was because it was seen from a
\ndistance by the imagination, not lived in by the soul and in its spirit, as is
\ndone by the true seer and poet of this super-nature or other-nature. And all
\nthese things, because they have their own reality, have their life and a poetry
\nwhich makes then its subject can be as vital, as powerful, as true as the song
\nwhich makes beautiful the physical life and normal passions and emotions of men
\nand the objects of our bodily sense-experience.<\/p>\n

But still all life is one and a
\nnew human mind moves toward the realisation of its totality and oneness. The
\npoetry which voices the oneness and totality of our being and Nature and the
\nworlds and God, will not make the actuality of our earthly life less but more
\nreal and rich and full and wide and living to men To know other countries is
\nnot to belittle but enlarge our own country and help it to a greater power of
\nits own being, and to know the other countries of the soul is to widen our
\nbounds and make more opulent and beautiful the earth on which we live. to <\/span>bring the gods into our life is to
\nraise it to its own diviner powers To live in close and abiding intimacy with
\nNature and the spirit in her is to free our daily living from its prison of
\nnarrow preoccupation with the immediate moment and act and to give the moment
\nthe inspiration of all Time and the background of eternity and the daily act
\nthe foundation of an eternal peace and the large momentum of the universal
\nPower. To bring God into life, the sense of the self in us into all our
\npersonality and becoming, the powers and vistas of the Infinite into our mental
\nand material existence, the oneness of the self in all into our experience <\/p>\n

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\n

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and feelings and relations of heart and mind with all
\nthat is around us is to help to divinise our actual being and life, to force
\ndown its fences of division and blindness and unveil the human godhead that
\nindividual man and his race can become if they will and lead us to our most
\nvital perfection. This is what a future poetry may do for us in the way and
\nmeasure in which poetry can do these things, by vision, by the power of the
\nword, by the attraction of the beauty and delight of what it shows us. What
\nphilosophy or other mental brooding makes precise or full to our thought,
\npoetry can by its creative power, imaging force and appeal to the emotions make
\nliving to the soul and heart. This poetry will present to us indeed in forms of
\npower and beauty all the actual life of man, his wonderful and fruitful past,
\nhis living and striving present, his yet more living aspiration and hope of the
\nfuture, but will present it more seeingly as the life of the vast self and
\nspirit within the race and the veiled divinity in the individual, as an act of
\nthe power and delight of universal being, in the greatness of an eternal
\nmanifestation, in the presence and intimacy of Nature, in harmony with the
\nbeauty and wonder of the realms that stretch out beyond earth and its life, in
\nthe march to godhead and the significances of immortality, in the ever clearer
\nletters and symbols of the self-revealing mystery and not only in its first
\ncrude and incomplete actualities; these actualities will themselves be treated
\nwith a firmer and finer vision, find their own greater meaning and become to
\nour sight thread of the fine tissue and web of the cosmic work of the Spirit.
\nThis poetry will be the voice and rhythmic utterance of our greater, our total,
\nour infinite existence, and will give us the strong and infinite sense, the
\nspiritual and vital joy, the exalting<\/p>\n

power
\nof a greater breath of life. <\/p>\n

\nPage – 234<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

chapter XXVII The Breath of Greater Life               THE turn of poetry in the age which we have now left behind, was, as was…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[29],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1277","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-09-the-future-poetry-volume-09","wpcat-29-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1277","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=1277"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1277\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1277"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1277"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1277"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}