Loretta reads Savitri:Seven.III "The Entry into the Inner Countries" part 4
|Savitri: Book Seven, Canto III, part 4 of 4|
|by Loretta, 2015 (10:44)|
|Listen on Auroville Radio →|
|Loretta reads Savitri
Book Seven: The Book of Yoga
Canto III: The Entry into the Inner Countries
Part 4 of 4, pages 498-502
Savitri has been searching for her soul. She's following the guidance of a voice from higher spheres. And she's making an inner journey through Matter's body. She's travelled far, and she's seen much. But she still has not found the soul, or even seen the influence of the soul, in the different places that she has gone in Matter's body.
Savitri has seen the cries of life; she's seen the instinct of the senses; but she has seen them devoid of soul. She has seen life energies acting without the presence of the soul; and she has seen mind governing life without the soul.
Now Savitri comes to the place where the intellect rules – but she cannot find the soul here, so she refuses to stay. She continues her journey on across her silent self. And at last she meets someone who can show her the road to follow, to find her secret and mysterious soul.
... Into a firm and settled space she came Where all was still and all things kept their place. Each found what it had sought and knew its aim. All had a final last stability. There one stood forth who bore authority On an important brow and held a rod; Command was incarnate in his gesture and tone; Tradition’s petrified wisdom carved his speech, His sentences savoured the oracle. “Traveller or pilgrim of the inner world, Fortunate art thou to reach our brilliant air Flaming with thought’s supreme finality. O aspirant to the perfect way of life, Here find it; rest from search and live at peace. Ours is the home of cosmic certainty. Here is the truth, God’s harmony is here. Register thy name in the book of the elite, Admitted by the sanction of the few, Adopt thy station of knowledge, thy post in mind, Thy ticket of order draw in Life’s bureau And praise thy fate that made thee one of ours. All here, docketed and tied, the mind can know, All schemed by law that God permits to life. This is the end and there is no beyond. p.499 Here is the safety of the ultimate wall, Here is the clarity of the sword of Light, Here is the victory of a single Truth, Here burns the diamond of flawless bliss. A favourite of Heaven and Nature live.” But to the too satisfied and confident sage Savitri replied casting into his world Sight’s deep release, the heart’s questioning inner voice: For here the heart spoke not, only clear daylight Of intellect reigned here, limiting, cold, precise. “Happy are they who in this chaos of things, This coming and going of the feet of Time, Can find the single Truth, the eternal Law: Untouched they live by hope and doubt and fear. Happy are men anchored on fixed belief In this uncertain and ambiguous world, Or who have planted in the heart’s rich soil One small grain of spiritual certitude. Happiest who stand on faith as on a rock. But I must pass leaving the ended search, Truth’s rounded outcome firm, immutable And this harmonic building of world-fact, This ordered knowledge of apparent things. Here I can stay not, for I seek my soul.” None answered in that bright contented world, Or only turned on their accustomed way Astonished to hear questioning in that air Or thoughts that could still turn to the Beyond. But some murmured, passers-by from kindred spheres: Each by his credo judged the thought she spoke. “Who then is this who knows not that the soul Is a least gland or a secretion’s fault Disquieting the sane government of the mind, Disordering the function of the brain, Or a yearning lodged in Nature’s mortal house Or dream whispered in man’s cave of hollow thought p.500 Who would prolong his brief unhappy term Or cling to living in a sea of death?” But others, “Nay, it is her spirit she seeks. A splendid shadow of the name of God, A formless lustre from the Ideal’s realm, The Spirit is the Holy Ghost of Mind; But none has touched its limbs or seen its face. Each soul is the great Father’s crucified Son, Mind is that soul’s one parent, its conscious cause, The ground on which trembles a brief passing light, Mind, sole creator of the apparent world. All that is here is part of our own self; Our minds have made the world in which we live.” Another with mystic and unsatisfied eyes Who loved his slain belief and mourned its death, “Is there one left who seeks for a Beyond? Can still the path be found, opened the gate?” So she fared on across her silent self. To a road she came thronged with an ardent crowd Who sped brilliant, fire-footed, sunlight-eyed, Pressing to reach the world’s mysterious wall, And pass through masked doorways into outer mind Where the Light comes not nor the mystic voice, Messengers from our subliminal greatnesses, Guests from the cavern of the secret soul. Into dim spiritual somnolence they break Or shed wide wonder on our waking self, Ideas that haunt us with their radiant tread, Dreams that are hints of unborn Reality, Strange goddesses with deep-pooled magical eyes, Strong wind-haired gods carrying the harps of hope, Great moon-hued visions gliding through gold air, Aspiration’s sun-dream head and star-carved limbs, Emotions making common hearts sublime. And Savitri mingling in that glorious crowd, p.501 Yearning to the spiritual light they bore, Longed once to hasten like them to save God’s world; But she reined back the high passion in her heart; She knew that first she must discover her soul. Only who save themselves can others save. In contrary sense she faced life’s riddling truth: They carrying the light to suffering men Hurried with eager feet to the outer world; Her eyes were turned towards the eternal source. Outstretching her hands to stay the throng she cried: “O happy company of luminous gods, Reveal, who know, the road that I must tread,— For surely that bright quarter is your home,— To find the birthplace of the occult Fire And the deep mansion of my secret soul.” One answered pointing to a silence dim On a remote extremity of sleep In some far background of the inner world. “O Savitri, from thy hidden soul we come. We are the messengers, the occult gods Who help men’s drab and heavy ignorant lives To wake to beauty and the wonder of things Touching them with glory and divinity; In evil we light the deathless flame of good And hold the torch of knowledge on ignorant roads; We are thy will and all men’s will towards Light. O human copy and disguise of God Who seekst the deity thou keepest hid And livest by the Truth thou hast not known, Follow the world’s winding highway to its source. There in the silence few have ever reached, Thou shalt see the Fire burning on the bare stone And the deep cavern of thy secret soul.” Then Savitri following the great winding road Came where it dwindled into a narrow path Trod only by rare wounded pilgrim feet. p.502 A few bright forms emerged from unknown depths And looked at her with calm immortal eyes. There was no sound to break the brooding hush; One felt the silent nearness of the soul. END OF CANTO THREE