Overhead Poetry

Ojas

Rise upward, stream of passion in the gloom!

Rise where lone pinnacles mate with heaven's womb!

Earth drags you down, but all your shimmers know

The stars' enchanted fire calling you home.

Mountains of mind are sacred: join your cry

Unto their peaceful marriage with the sky.

Your children shall be words eternal, sprung

From golden seeds of packed immensity.

Sri Aurobindo's Comment

"It is a fine poem, the second stanza especially fine. Language and rhythm from the illumined Mind."

"I can't exactly say that it is equal to your best. It is a fine poem; but entire inevitability is not there, except perhaps in the second stanza's first three lines (the last is a very fine one full of light and fire but not quite with that realised and consummate perfection which is meant by 'inevitable'); perhaps also the 2nd line [of the first stanza]."

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