March 3, 2022
The bamboo sings its fluted song And with it I am carried along, Among the chattering birds I go To work in the fields of praise and slow My breathing and set my mind to rest. For here in Auroville the test Is whether these souls can unite Above the ego and find God-sight Annulling anger and ill-will To allow the spirit to rise and fill These sacred bodies with delight Emerging from the grip of Night To greet with reverence the sun, The Hour of God at last begun.
Poems Undated (1727)
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