Overhead Poetry

God-Sculpture

"No man to immortal beauty woke

But by My music of stroke on stroke

Should I disdain to hurt your deep

Rigidities of clay-bound sleep,

How would you bear a thrilled impress

Of My unshadowed loveliness?

Pain like a chisel I've brought to trace

The death of pain upon your face:

Each curve and line new-wrought shall be

A tangible God-ecstasy.

If earth's hard gloom I never broke

With the keen fire of shaping stroke,

Creation would forfeit its aim—

To house the paradisal flame

In no vague momentary mood

But kindle with infinitude

Rapture as of eternal stone!

Must not My love be hammer-willed

Its crowning masterpiece to build

From the dense quarry of body and bone?"

Sri Aurobindo's Comment

"It is a very fine poem, perfect in rhythm and expression. The inspiration is from an inner centre."

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