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November 25, 2024 - August 31, 2025
His will must be worked out in human breasts Against the Evil that rises from the gulfs, Against man’s ignorance and his obstinate strength, Against the deep folly of his human mind, Against the blind reluctance of his human heart.
The spirit is doomed to pain till man is free.
The seed of Godhead sleeps in mortal hearts, The flower of Godhead grows on the world-tree: All shall discover God in self and things, But when God’s messenger comes to help the world And lead the soul of earth to higher things, He too must carry the yoke he came to unloose; He too must bear the pang that he would heal: Exempt and unafflicted by earth’s fate, How shall he cure the ills he never felt?
There is no visible foe, but the unseen Is round us, forces intangible besiege, Touches from alien realms, thoughts not our own Overtake us and compel the erring heart; Our lives are caught in an ambiguous net. ||108.56||
This world is in love with its own ignorance,
Yes, there are happy ways near to God’s sun; But few are they who tread the sunlit path; Only the pure in soul can walk in light.
The feints of Nature mislead not his sight, Inflexible his look towards Truth’s far end; Fate’s deaf resistance cannot break his will.
O mortal, bear this great world’s law of pain, In thy hard passage through a suffering world Lean for thy soul’s support on Heaven’s strength, Turn towards high Truth, aspire to love and peace.
A little bliss is lent thee from above, A touch divine upon thy human days: Make of thy daily way a pilgrimage, For through small joys and griefs thou mov’st towards God. ||110.3||
Haste not towards Godhead on a dangerous road, Open not thy doorways to a nameless Power, Climb not to Godhead by the Titan’s road.
He sees his little self as very God.
His little “I” has swallowed the whole world, His ego has stretched into infinity.
The soul suffering is not eternity’s key, Or ransom by sorrow, heaven’s demand on life.
O mortal who complainst of death and fate, Accuse none of the harms thyself hast called; This troubled world thou hast chosen for thy home, Thou art thyself the author of thy pain.
A vast disguise conceals the Eternal’s bliss.”
But what is fate if not the spirit’s will After long time fulfilled by cosmic Force?
If human will could be made one with God’s, If human thought could echo the thoughts of God, Man might be all-knowing and omnipotent; But now he walks in Nature’s doubtful ray.
This world was not built with random bricks of chance, A blind god is not destiny’s architect; A conscious power has drawn the plan of life, There is a meaning in each curve and line.
The great are strongest when they stand alone.
The soul that can live alone with itself meets God; Its lonely universe is their rendezvous.
Man’s hopes and longings build the journeying wheels That bear the body of his destiny And lead his blind will towards an unknown goal.
His fate within him shapes his acts and rules; Its face and form already are born in him, Its parentage is in his secret soul; Here Matter seems to mould the body’s life And the soul follows where its nature drives: Nature and Fate compel his free-will’s choice.
But greater spirits this balance can reverse And make the soul the artist of its fate.
This is the mystic truth our ignorance hides: Doom is a passage for our inborn force, Our ordeal is the hidden spirit’s choice, Ananke is our being’s own decree.
“I am thy portion here charged with thy work, As thou myself seated for ever above, Speak to my depths, O great and deathless Voice, Command, for I am here to do thy will.”
Conquer thy heart’s throbs, let thy heart beat in God: Thy nature shall be the engine of his works, Thy voice shall house the mightiness of his Word: Then shalt thou harbour my force and conquer Death.”
Man in the world’s life works out the dreams of God. ||117.21||
All the world’s possibilities in man Are waiting as the tree waits in its seed: His past lives in him; it drives his future’s pace; His present’s acts fashion his coming fate.
Our past lives still in our unconscious selves And by the weight of its hidden influences Is shaped our future’s self-discovery.
Thus all is an inevitable chain And yet a series seems of accidents.
In dim tunnels of the world’s being and in ours The old rejected nature still survives; The corpses of its slain thoughts raise their heads And visit mind’s nocturnal walks in sleep, Its stifled impulses breathe and move and rise; All keeps a phantom immortality.
Irresistible are Nature’s sequences: The seeds of sins renounced sprout from hid soil; The evil cast from our hearts once more we face.
Truth made the world, not a blind Nature-Force.
Only if God assumes the human mind And puts on mortal ignorance for his cloak And makes himself the Dwarf with triple stride, Can he help man to grow into the God.
As man disguised the cosmic Greatness works And finds the mystic inaccessible gate And opens the Immortal’s golden door.
Our minds have made the world in which we live.”
Hell tortures me with the edges of my thought, Heaven tortures me with the splendour of my dreams.
For pity is a weakness in his breast, His goodness is a laxity in the nerves, His kindness an investment for return, His altruism is ego’s other face: He serves the world that him the world may serve.
I break the ignorant pride of human mind And lead the thought to the wideness of the Truth; I rend man’s narrow and successful life And force his sorrowful eyes to gaze at the sun That he may die to earth and live in his soul.
The cosmic evil is too deep to unroot: The cosmic suffering is too vast to heal.
A few I guide who pass me towards the Light; A few I save, the mass falls back unsaved; A few I help, the many strive and fail:
Immortal spirit in the perishing clay, I am God still unevolved in human form;
Death’s silence leave where there was laughter and joy.
Nay, let me work within my mortal bounds, Not live beyond life nor think beyond the mind; Our smallness saves us from the Infinite.
Because thou art, the soul draws near to God; Because thou art, love grows in spite of hate And knowledge walks unslain in the pit of Night.
Her self was nothing, God alone was all,
Our sight and sense are a fallible gaze and touch And only the spirit’s vision is wholly true.
She felt herself made one with all she saw.
A Sun of which all knowledge is a beam, A Greatness without whom no life could be.
Here in this chamber of flame and light they met; They looked upon each other, knew themselves, The secret deity and its human part, The calm immortal and the struggling soul. ||126.9|| Then with a magic transformation’s speed They rushed into each other and grew one. ||126.10||
