Bestirs her puzzled wings
Once more her mistress, on the deep
Her troubled question flings—
Thrice to the floating casement
The Patriarch’s bird returned,
Courage! My brave Columba!
There may yet be Land!
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205
Because—because if he should dieWhile I was gone—and I—too late—Should reach the Heart that wanted me—If I should disappoint the eyesThat hunted—hunted so—to see—And could not bear to shut untilThey ‘noticed’ me—they noticed me—If I should stab the patient faithSo sure I’d come—so sure I’d come—It listening—listening—went to sleep—Telling my tardy name—My Heart would wish…
366
An Ornament too grandFor Forehead low as mine, to wear,This might have been the HandThat sowed the flower, he preferred—Or smoothed a homely pain,Or pushed the pebble from his path—Or played his chosen tune—On Lute the least—the latest—But just his Ear could knowThat whatsoe’er delighted it,I never would let go—The foot to bear his errand—A…
811
The Scarlet Flowers areTill Nature leisure has for TermsAs ‘Branch,’ and ‘Jugular.’We pass, and she abides.We conjugate Her SkillWhile She creates and federatesWithout a syllable.
‘Heavenly Father’ – take to thee
Fashioned by thy candid HandIn a moment contraband –Though to trust us – seems to usMore respectful – ‘We are Dust’ –We apologize to theeFor thine own Duplicity –
298
For Hosts—do visit me—Recordless Company—Who baffle Key—They have no Robes, nor Names—No Almanacs—nor Climes—But general HomesLike Gnomes—Their Coming, may be knownBy Couriers within—Their going—is not—For they’ve never gone—
Nature rarer uses Yellow
Saves she all of that for SunsetsProdigal of BlueSpending Scarlet, like a WomanYellow she affordsOnly scantly and selectlyLike a Lover’s Words.
the beetle’s saliva is on the flower,
the cows milk itself is mixed with the saliva of the calf!
why should there be so much fuss over it?
36
Milk does not return to the udder, nor butter to the butter-milk;
Nor the life within the sea-shell, if it breaks, to its body;
The blown flower, the fallen fruit, do not return to the tree;
The dead are not born, never, never, never, never!
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In the Four Eternal Vedas,
In sacred ashes and in Holy WritsAnd muttering of prayersYou will not find the Lord!Melt with the Heart Insideand proclaim the Truth.Then you will join the Light-Life without servitude.
He is not Hari, He is not the Lord Siva.
In the Beyond of Beyond,Transcending Blackness, Redness, and Whiteness.Immovable.Try not to understand:He is not big, He is not small.He is Infinite Distance,Immovable,Transcending evenSupreme Quiescence.
Silence, unmoved and rising,
Silence, unmoved and permanent,Silence, unmoved and brilliant,Silence, broad and immense like the Ganga,Silence, unmoved and increasing,Silence, white and shining like the Moon,Silence, the Essence of Siva.
Verse/38
Where is the high-caste woman?Are there numbers inscribed on the skin and flesh?Is the pariah woman’s delight different from that of a the high-caste woman?Analyse the pariah woman and the high-caste woman in you.Verse/46Drawn milk doesn’t return to the breast.Churned butter doesn’t return to the butter-milk.The broken conch’s sound and the beings don’t re-enter the…
He is not Hari, He is not the Lord Siva.
In the Beyond of the Beyond,Transcending Blackness, Redness, and Whiteness,Immoveable.Try to understand:He is not big, He is not small.He is Infinite Distance,Immovable,Transcending evenSupreme Quiessence.
The slothful
Say: He is far, far, farAway!But the Supreme ItIs spread everywhereon Earth and in Heavens.O you poor dumb ones,runningstunned and sufferingthrough towns and fields and forestsin Search!He is right therewithin you!Stand stilland feel Him,feel!