The Secret Splendour

  Poems


The Yogi''s Death

 

Out of the eyes the thought took wing to the clouds;

Out of the nostrils the small life blew free;

From the lax lips the earth-spirit drifted down

To vagues of primal sleep. An arrow shot

From the deep heart to the head's crown, the soul

Broke into wideness, grew the All, the One.

22.5.71


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