Poems
THEME/S
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
Page 622
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