Collected Poems - Sri Aurobindo Ashram

520 Pondicherry, c. 1910 – 1920
Seems not divine to our eyes, but a worm that stings and is happy —
Groans of the sad oppressed have no tone for our ears any longer.
Death we have taken in horror, the anguish of others afflicts us
And with the pangs of an alien heart we are shaken and troubled.
Lo, I am torn by a woman’s sobs that come up in the midnight.
O Will of God
O Will of God that stirrest and the Void
Is peopled, men have called thee force, upbuoyed
Upon whose wings the stars borne round and round
Need not one hour of rest; light, form and sound
Are masks of thy eternal movement. We
See what thou choosest, but ’tis thou we see.
I Morcundeya, whom the worlds release,
The Seer, — but it is God alone that sees! —
Soar up above the bonds that hold below
Man to his littleness, lost in the show
Perennial which the senses round him build;
I find them out and am no more beguiled.
But ere I rise, ere I become the vast
And luminous Infinite and from the past
And future utterly released forget
These beings who themselves their bonds create,
Once I will speak and what I see declare.
The rest is God. There’s silence everywhere.
My eyes within were opened and I saw.