A book of paintings by Niranjan accompanied with poems
Painting
THEME/S
Listen With Your Heart
Welcome the Mother
by
Niranjan Guha Ray
Copyright © 2006 by Amita Guha Roy
First Edition
Published in the U.S.A. by Bhaktiland
i
iii
Om Sri Aurobindo saranam mama
Om Douce Mère saranam mama
Pranam, pranam, pranam
Niranjan Guha Ray was born in East Bengal, now Bangladesh, in 30 May 1920. His family moved to New Delhi where he studied before joining the Indian Air Force as a pilot and career Officer. After the war as he said often himself that - "having realized that the war was not the solution," he resigned from the Air Force and decided to dedicate himself to the spiritual search. He joined the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in Pondicherry, created by Sri Aurobindo and the Mother (Mira Alfassa) in 1946. Then his "real life began."
It is there that he started putting in music, paintings and words his deepest spiritual experiences, his most touching feelings and his visions of a new world of Beauty.
The Mother united him with a French disciple Amita as they shared the same aspiration and could work together; they were married in 1967.
After the passing away of the Mother, they went to France in 1984 where he continued more and more to express his spiritual journey through his art. He created a small place called Motherland, a silent, humble - "Shrine in honour of the Mother," as he called it. He lived quietly there following an intense spiritual discipline till he left his body in August 2005.
His whole work is still in his little Sanctuary expressing the intensity of his search and the depth of his spiritual experiences. One can truly say that his life has been a song of love and adoration to the Mother Divine, a complete dedication to the Ideal of Sri Aurobindo.
iv - v
The Bride of the Eternal
My heart is like a huge cathedral, a temple rising to the sky,
Illumined with Love, filled with the perfume of Love,
Softly resounding with the organ-choir music of Love.
An invisible breeze refreshing, healing all the agonies and wounds
Greets one and all, good ones, bad ones, prophets and monsters,
The sick and healthy, the nuns and harlots, the hard and the gentle ones
With a silent adoring Love which sees the Divine in all.
The cathedral Temple needs constant expansion in all direction
To house birds, animals, living beings on land, sea and air,
For whom to reject: In the tiniest worm and flower and pebble
Shines the Lord, the Great One who puts on the humblest robes.
Love circulates unseen through all hearts, unhindered by any wall.
Your violence, selfishness, blind littleness, your grief and shame
Will disappear forever, if you come out of your cocoon in the open,
Break the rock fortress of ego, your self-made prison of hatred,
Anger, disdain, your born distrust of others, even of your own brother.
Love in disguise is at your door begging; invite the Stranger to your table,
Darkness will be swallowed up by the radiant yet soothing Love,
Division cured by Love, becomes myriad souls throbbing with a single impulse.
Suffering faints in the mighty embrace of a sublimating sweetness,
The psyche in man and beast, plant and stone yearns for Love day and night.
Love is knocking at your door.
Listen with your heart. Welcome the Mother.
2 - 3
A mountain of garbage on a seashore, foul smelling,
Hungry hands retrieving bits of paper, rags, plastic containers,
Broken and rusted tools and machines, used batteries,
A huge mass of rotting bodies piled pell-mell
As in a monstrous junkyard waiting for burial,
Kindly hands, invisible angels looking through the pile
For some souls still breathing, clutching to life desperately,
Clinging to some impossible hope, a touch of Grace,
Are not totally dismayed - yes, there were a few hearts still beating.
With gentle care they removed the wounded souls from the crushing heap,
Filled their lungs with a celestial air, gave them a drink of nectar.
Coming back from the land of dead, the survivors could not realize
That they were back on earth for there was a new radiant Sun
To welcome them in a new divine world of delight, color, song and laughter.
The terrible nightmare seemed to be a far off faded unreal mirage.
When a soul receives a touch of Grace, all is magically forever changed.
All around them was now a magnificent garden of unfading flowers.
4 - 5
The Strange Blossom of Light
My soul, open thy eyes,
Watch the long - expected birth
Concealed from the vulgar inquisitive sight
Of the marvelous bloom of tomorrow,
Almost invisible in the shadow of austere trees,
Old as the mountains and self-assured of their immunity.
Watch it open silently petal by petal,
Unsuspected in a neglected corner of thy freehold.
Stranger, little understood, disdained by the wise,
Unwelcome, mocked and disowned by the crowd,
The gentle humble Guest can hardly lift Her head
With the mortal weight of the past on Her breast.
The victorious yesterday lives on gloriously,
For a while, trembling inside, now certain of its death.
My soul, do not be duped by the faintness of the early glow.
It brings in its wake the ocean-swell of liquid gold,
The end of a perpetual night, the Sun that does not set anymore,
Unveiled blissful Presence of the beloved Mother Divine.
Open wide thy doors to that strange distant Light
And nourish with the white purity of inner fire,
The wonder-bud of Splendor in the mire of Earth.
6 - 7
The world goes around the sun everyday
And leaves behind it a world plunged in bitter sweet memories.
Every day one wakes with atrocious pains for all that disappeared forever.
Every event, every person leaves a thorn driven in the flesh.
What is lost has disappeared forever in the bottomless abyss of Time.
Man tries to fill the loss of his world all the time
By insane adventures - one drowns himself in wine,
One hangs himself, incapable to bear the disappearance of cherished being.
Time with its basket brings fruits bitter sweet, exotic adventures,
A moment of ardent love to allow us to forget
The pain of the thorns pushed in the flesh.
Where does one go?
F or some moments, for some seconds, one is at the crest of a drunken wave,
8
The moment after one is swallowed in a macabre darkness crushing us to pulp.
Are we living, are we dead?
It is the Nothingness which swallows us.
Nothings exists, neither the past, nor present; the future has no right to enter.
Silence!
A light of hope is born in this greyness,
The Sweet Mother murmurs with an enchanted voice.
It is like a balm, which relieves one thousand wounds in the flesh and the soul:
'O Traveler of eternity why lament for broken vases lost for ever,
Look around you; there are mountains of white clay.
Look at the Potter magician,
Who creates all the time new china vases, new fascinating miracles,
Always more brilliant than the former broken, lost, destroyed vases.
Everything is there forever! Here is the mountain of white clay,
If you want, come with me in my studio.
I would teach you how to make new porcelain vases,
And fill them with the Nectar waiting in my inexhaustible cellars.
Make vases; fill them with immortal nectar,
People are sad and unhappy, if they come to knock at your door,
Cure their disease; take away the thorns from their flesh,
Give them to drink the nectar of immortality,
Which unveils the supreme and smiling Divinity
Residing in the mystic heart center from inside our own selves.
The more the inward divinity would appear in the life of the body, the more the suffering would disappear forever replaced by the joy of the Immortals.
Heal them; bring a golden-colored sunbeam of the Eternity in their soul. '
9
O Aspiration, rise more and more towards the Real.
O Aspiration become more and more pure,
Pure like the flame without smoke, without desire,
Without attachment to the past.
O Aspiration, you are the only stairway to our future.
It is only through the aspiration
That the great benevolent Divinities can come down
And make abode in our consciousness and being.
The presence of Aspiration
Is the sign of God's working in us.
O Aspiration, become intense, steady and one-pointed.
May all other aims, other ideals, other goals be consumed
In your bright and incandescent plane.
O Mother Divine, come down in me,
Down the stairway of my rising aspiration.
O Aspiration, set fire to my heart, mind, soul,
My body, all the cells of my body.
O Aspiration, when you are there
I know I am with the Divine.
Keep me, keep me always with the Divine.
How auspicious you are for in truth,
Aspiration is the rising, the awakening of the Mother Divine in us,
Her descent and Her fulfillment.
O Aspiration rise ever pure, fragrant, intense,
One pointed, incandescent.
10 - 11
Spring - forever young
Night was dark filled with frightful howling and shrieking.
It dragged on for ages like the endless tail of a wounded dragon,
Blood and crushed limbs, growl and roar of violent beasts fighting.
Life was adrift on a turbulent river gone red with passion,
Men's eyes used to the palpable body of night reveled in orgy.
Like the drone of tampura, a moan of anguish chilled the air.
Hope was not born yet, every time it tried to come to life,
It met a premature death in the womb of the tyrant night.
Then a mighty wind blew, began to whistle and thunder like a galactic choir,
Followed by heavenly showers and hoards of knights, lightning bright,
Pierced, slashed and cut to ribbons the unyielding body of night.
A tranquil Light flooded the earth; the darkness got dissolved forever.
The strangled spring burst into a song mixed with silvery ripples of laughter,
Like a maiden in love with Krishna, it ran among the trees and lakes,
Pursued by a gentle flute, opening the sleeping buds of roses
And closed lotus-hearts from their heavy trance of forgotten joy.
One by one, new deathless flowers grew in number smiling, dancing
In the sacred garden of the Temple, nourished by the Divine Love.
The prolonged agony of night vanished in the golden Light of a New Sun.
The long-awaited Mother has come and taken the sick unhappy child,
The abandoned weeping earth to Her bosom, now all is wonderfully fine.
O Soul, move on in the ray of Her infallible Sun to constant Splendor.
12 - 13
Deep within us, far beyond the gaze of the surface mind,
In a luminous cavern in the secret mystic heart,
Sits the omnipotent supreme goddess: Our real immortal soul.
O Lord, forever tranquil, unmoved,
Leading the pilgrim souls through the darkest night
To the Home of Bliss and unfailing Light.
14 - 15
Ever welcome to my kneeling soul and heart in adoration
O Secret Spirit. subtler than the subtlest as You are.
Yet You have inhabited these fragile earthen frames
To make Yourself tangible, accessible to the soul of man.
You speak through them each word they say,
You pour through them the molten gold of an invisible Sun.
O Secret Spirit, before I caught a glimpse of Them
Arranged by a lucky accident, like a lost tragic one-note
Cry moaning in the hopeless night, my desolate life
Was a tedious stretch of a wretched play,
A huge senseless waste, a perpetual gnawing affliction.
Had I not met Them and borne Their transmuting gaze,
O Secret Spirit, I could never, never have believed
That the Divine is so wonderful, all love and compassion.
Like a passionate moth burning madly for the embrace of Fire,
How my whole being yearns to be possessed by His Sweetness
Till nothing, nothing shall be left of the sordid amalgam that is myself.
O Secret merciful Spirit, in answer to my desperate longing,
You have pressed a tiny concealed spring,
A flow of cleansing waters stream down from the benign peaks,
Melt and purify the petrified filth and gloom of the ages.
My soul now deeply satisfied, a happy one-note hymn of faith
Throbs faintly with gratitude, drowned in the symphony of Grace.
O Secret Spirit, penetrating the vast Universe and beyond,
All its nooks and corners with Your breathing Presence,
Substance of dreams, realities and abysmal mysteries
From the most luminous High divinities
To the tenebrous God-denying Almighties,
You are always the same intimate, nameless Supreme.
I see You, feel and touch You and hear Your voice,
Yet You are the strangest of the strangers I have ever met.
16 - 17
Do I exist? It makes me laugh, such a ridiculous question.
In Your boundless unbroken changeless Self-extension,
An isotope of an old shattered atom pulsating with hope
For the billionth of an undying second that is myself;
No, I do not exist yet this moment is rich and poignant.
O Secret Self, from You I am born, Your body's portion,
In You I disappear like the exalted sprays
Falling back into the Ocean in suspense.
When I contemplate the endless sacred procession
Of Your fugitive names and faces on the Cinerama of Time,
Then, then only I vibrate and my life even so insignificant
Glows and bums in ecstasy like a meteor in explosion.
Glory to You, my Friend, Sweetheart, Master, Guide and Queen,
Glory to Your Messengers, Emanations and Incarnations,
Glory to the earthly bodies filled with the Holy Spirit.
The effort to rise higher and higher,
To fly and explore
Always new dimensions,
This call to ascend is on all of us,
Whether we shoot up or dive,
In the end,
All is same for always,
Always we rise.
18 - 19
In the hush of the soul listening,
A deafening crash of cymbals announced
The Apocalyptic fall and final demise
Of the moribund Asura, blind lord of this world matter.
Riotous winds whipped up the sea, a thousand violins
In ecstasy, presto, crescendo, ripped the veil to ribbons
Between the devotee and the dazzling splendor of Mahashakti.
The waves gone mad, danced in frenzy, foamy hands lifted high,
Thundering a choir mingled with the voices of a hundred nations,
A huge roaring cosmic harmony, an eruption of laughter,
A volcanic outburst of soul's release from death and pain,
A giant symphony of orchestras from the East and West,
Warriors on horseback descended galloping, brilliant
From the high plateau, the hooves clanging, ringing
In rhythm with a legion of timpani and drums,
Trumpets striking terror into the guts of demon hordes
Who infest the earth and feast on human misery;
An entreating flute came floating from some Wonderland,
Gods and angels, the Devil and his brood, men and beast, fish and fowl
Felt an irresistible charm invading their distinction,
All barriers softly melted revealing an eternal single Vibration.
Om Douce Mère, Om Sri Aurobindo.
20 - 21
Marshy land, waist-deep water, dark and muddy bottom,
A gloomy crowd of drooping lotus-buds above the waterline
All closed, unable to break the drowsy spell of slime.
Here and there, some rare lonely buds struggling to raise the head.
A dull green curtain hides their pink and white yearning.
Yet in that liquid desert rises high among the lost tribe,
An exotic golden lotus in full bloom radiating divine Love
And Ananda in transmuting waves to hasten the psychic birth,
Some shining Godhead fallen from heaven floating on the silent night.
The somnolent buds slowly wake up from their heavy primal trance,
By the warm glow of a new life emanating from the golden Queen,
Stretch out their long paralyzed bodies in a prayer of gratitude,
Behold the countless beaming faces, bodies straight swaying gently
Moving in rhythm with an unforgettable ancient melody
Around the amazing lotus, the unique golden Queen Mother.
22 - 23
A beckoning hand of light, hope and joy is calling the human soul
From the other shore. But man is desperately holding on to its old moorings,
Threadbare, faded, worn out enchantments. He clings on to his hopeless
Life though reduced to an orange squeezed dry with no juice left.
A beckoning friendly hand calls the soul from afar to a paradise little
Known on earth. But man, though tempted at times, clings to the old rusty
Brittle iron bars of the fence of his imaginary Eldorado. But, for how long?
How long, O yearning soul gasping for Light, a breath of heaven,
How long will you resist and increase your incurable agony!
Be brave, gather courage, let go the grip on the
24
Fatal illusive charm of human life.
Take a risk, plunge into the rough sea and swim to the other bank.
A hand of light and hope and joy is beckoning from afar.
How long will you suffer, O yearning soul, let go the old moorings!
Swim and run to the Mother Divine, waiting for you with all Her
Sweetness on the other shore, to welcome you in Her home of delight.
Let go all the rotten hollow termite-eaten, fragile castles of old.
Run, run, swim fast to the safety of light and joy of Eternity
On the other shore. Don't stay, my friend, I pray. Don't stay in the house
Crumbling to pieces and be caught in the debris of the falling sky of your
Futile dreams. Get out quick from the tottering house and the cloud of dust.
Run fast and quick to the open extended arms of the Sweet Mother Divine,
Waiting to shelter you in Her boundless heart of peace, love, harmony,
Splendour and glory. The moment you decide to live only for Her in Her soothing
Light, then, in an instant, all the walls and partitions melt forever into a delicious
Surprise. You find yourself happily locked in the embrace of the Sweet Mother.
Om Douce Mère saranam mama.
Om Sri Aurobindo, our Friend and Master,
Lead us step by step to the Eternal Mother.
25
'Thy feet are tom and thy spirit is bleeding,
Drink deep my perfume and enjoy the coolness of my shade'
Like a mother to her lost child, thus whispered to me an evening,
A bower of jasmine imploring with a thousand eyes,
'May the Lord's blessings be with thee.' I cried in delight and ere long
In the wake of the footfall of the night came an amorous moon.
Lying on the ground, in vain I seek refuge in an impossible dream,
Ghosts of uncertain tomorrow and vague memories scream and dance;
Twin vampires dark and pitiless suck the lovely moon
Who dies in spasms in the embrace of their sepulchral wings.
The awakened night struggling for breath shudders in terror,
But the jasmine comforts me with a refrain sweet and understanding:
'Like one listening to the strain of muted violins in a symphony,
Hearken behind the glamour of ideas and the riot of feelings
To the quiet voice of the Friend who dwells within.
Each day shall be a deeper probe into a joy unknown.'
26 - 27
Fearless Eagle, soar up in the sky
Towards the peaks of danger, dawns of glory,
On the spiral arm of the shining galaxy
Build thy impregnable eerie.
Salmon with prodigious leaps
Born in the shallow mountain streams,
Go and sound the monstrous deeps
To hasten thy growth and strengthen
The fiber of thy will.
Wandering bumblebee probing in
The blooms of the wilds afar,
Force into the closed hearts
Of the slumbering flowers,
Fear not the rapier of thorns
Or the scorn of a haughty bloom;
Should thy end be bitter,
Be it in quest of immortal nectar.
28 - 29
A cascade of luminous liquid Felicity
Crawled up the stone-paved way to the Temple,
Washed clean the darkened stones with hardened blood of ages.
It climbed up the stairs filled with the anguish of the slaughtered souls,
Released the petrified souls into the ravishing morning Light of the Spirit.
It entered the great sombre hall adorned with sculptured deities,
Inhabited by demons and his cohorts who feasted on the prayers
And incantations devoid of any love or devotion, but soaked
In the violent wine of desire, lust, vengeance, murderous greed for power.
It freed the high and noble, generous divinities from their tyrants,
Who fled in disorder like an army routed, scattered to the winds,
Unable to bear the searing touch of the divine rapture.
Darkness cannot cohabit with Light, violence dies in the embrace of Delight.
The cascade of luminous Felicity rose and rose like a divine anthem
To the ceiling and then over flowed into the Temple gardens.
A breath of celestial happiness like a sacred perfume filled the air.
Flowers blossomed even on the stones of the courtyard and pathways.
Their strong incense like perfume, their unearthly splendor
Attracted hearts yearning for the Eternal, kept at bay or drove away
Hosts of profiteers, dwellers of gloomy caves, haters of daylight.
The cascade of luminous Delight is flooding the towns and villages,
Every day a little more mending, washing, cleaning, transforming
Weeping and moaning, anger and violence, lust and greed and hatred
Into a supernatural joyous colorful carnival of song and laughter.
30 - 31
Lead me on, 0 Great Spirit,
I have left behind the familiar shores,
Lakes and torrents, harmless shallow river ways.
All around me is the strange, thrilling sinister Ocean.
O Eagle, Friend, Powerful cover my perilous journey
With your vigilant eyes, higher than the highest peaks of mind
Which no man can climb, deeper than the deepest abyss of life,
Which no diving whale can fathom, further than the Fancy's utmost extended
Range waits the New World of million-toned Harmony.
My keel is on the uncharted Ocean,
You have thrown all useless cargo overboard.
Heaven's blessings, the pouring rains have cleansed my deck
Of the petrified slime of the ages.
Each moment is a near disaster in the adventure of the Unknown
But for You, O Knower of the unmarked open sea-lanes.
Beyond the treacherous submerged knife-sharp ridges
Lies the Promised Land where the Golden Sun does not set.
O Great Spirit, My Captain, I have faith
In your skill, wisdom, power and courage.
Lead me on, 0 Great Spirit, I am wholly yours,
I fully trust you. The wheel of my destiny is safe in your hands.
32 - 33
O wonder Spirit of Beauty, Joy and Harmony,
Asleep in the mystic chamber of the aspiring soul,
Awake and spread wide your peaceful wings
On our warring passions, senseless thoughts and actions.
Let our mind be a vast sanctuary of unbroken felicity.
Let our emotions be warm and sustained notes of vibrating strings.
Let our actions be at good times, at odd times, a symphony of solidarity.
Strip away from our heart, mind, body and soul,
The hard layers of ugly violence, endless cruel suffering
And release the dancing fountains of sparkling song and laughter.
We are as yet only partly divine even at our greatest summit moments,
Waning and waxing like the moon, ever unreliable, inconstant.
The human retreats slowly before the steadily growing Light within,
The age-old prophetic manifests of the Kingdom of God on earth.
O wonder Spirit of Beauty, by your active Presence is now a reality.
A new muted race still wearing the human face glowing with the psychic
Fire appears on the horizon to change this nightmare
Into an exquisite radiant dream.
34 - 35
One day, the immortal Soul in men will break all barriers and join
Mater and Spirit
In a constantly growing beauty and harmony
And divine felicity.
May my entire being, my whole life be a conscious collaboration
With my soul, where resides forever the Mother Divine,.
May I become a simple surrendered happy instrument,
For Her play in the drama of divine life on earth.
36 - 37
An invisible great migration has already begun in earnest.
Drawn by a Majestic Golden Swan flying in a pale moonlight,
Flocks of ducks, geese and swans abandon their feeding grounds,
Familiar lakes, marshes and ponds and rise with a wild clamor
To join the Queen circling high up in the sky.
She is the lovely Golden Swan for whom they have waited so long.
She will take them to a happy Kingdom where deadly traps and arrows,
Cunning predators and ruthless hunters have no access to the land.
Far, far away from this blind, violent, intolerant, sickening world,
Where one lives in fear even of his intimate neighbor,
38
Illness, death and disaster stalk us quietly at all hours.
Victims of our own folly, we set fire to our own houses.
To slay a deer, slaughter a cow, shoot doves and pigeons by scores,
Stab an old friend, strangle the brother and the sister,
Are day's work of the carnivore we harbor in our nature.
My soul has heard the whistle of the Swan Queen calling us to assemble
High above the jungles where She is circling, waiting, waiting for us all.
Early in the morning while the sky is still dark, the signal is given.
Led by the Swan Queen, the great formation of wings fly into the Sun rising.
After crossing long centuries of deserts and icy fields,
Mountains and forests, smoke-laden huge cities,
Deafening airfields, busy ports, stale and decadent societies,
Swift trains and overcrowded roads and lanes leading nowhere,
They discover lying below an entranced land of heavenly harmony.
They notice with surprise a fringe of gold on their own wings.
An emerald earth set with sapphires, radiant with an inner fire,
Dotted with crystal cathedrals sending up swelling organ choirs,
Greets the Noble Queen followed by a legion of gold-tipped wings.
39
Blades of grass,
Leaves of humility,
Spread wide your carpet on the
Grounds of the sanctuary
To receive the Guests with a secret
Mission who walk softly
And are startled by the rustling
Of a falling leaf.
Offer your deep cushions to the
Priests and dignitaries
Tending through sleepless vigil
The smokeless Fire
Which alone can endaemonise
Life's tragic confusion.
Give your bouquets to the
Heralds of glory.
Protected by its green magic
They shall pass unhurt through
All the keyless doors
And contain the Divine Force
Without breaking.
40 - 41
Led by the Organist the soul broke into the wide rapture
Of a daring harmony in a moment of inner liberation,
Walls fell apart, boundaries were rescinded.
All the nations, men, women and children across the oceans
Joined in an immense upward venture even unknown to themselves.
Devotees aspiring for Truth beside the tomb of the Avatar at night,
Fortunate pilgrims conscious recipients of a New Light from Above,
Scientists in love with their work intent on finding out the secrets of life,
Astronomers sounding the spaces, technicians engaged in ballistic projects,
42
Mill-hands toiling in factories, mechanics bent over the lathes,
Farmers gathering a golden harvest of wheat, paddy and maize,
Women picking tealeaves and oranges, flower girls and vendors of laces,
Pilots concentrated on the dials of their supersonic jets,
Captains of cruisers, sailors and soldiers, famished minds seeking knowledge,
Leaders of finance, architects of highways, musicians, artists and poets,
Numberless humble people who grumble and take the crumbs offered by Fate
And crawl through rainy days and sunny lanes to the natural end,
Fomenters of trouble, revolutionaries, gamblers and death-dealers,
Starving children, the dead and the dying, prisoners without ransom,
Perverted visionaries who would gladly blow up creation,
Even those who hate the Divine and work against His will,
All in that miraculous instant gathered around the sacrificial
Fire of Grace, solicitous bees surrounding the
Mother-Queen to draw their sustenance of Faith.
Unknown to us, our soul participates in a magnificent plan.
43
Aum Anandamayi, Compassionate Mother of Delight,
Sustained by Thy smile we move towards Thy ecstasy.
The darkest soul awakened by Thy Grace,
Bums heavenward pure as a flame.
Patiently thou disengagest our real shape
By Thy clairvoyant refusals, delicate strokes of chisel,
Healing our wounds with the tender touch of Thy magic fingers.
The lightning kiss of Thy Force from above in the end
Puts the seal on the pact of love that never wanes.
O Blissful Presence, our beloved Queen!
Thou veilest Thy face in feigned indifference
When our souls are besieged by rebel passions.
In despair when we sink to the bottom, we come to rest on Thy bosom.
We seek Thee no more, Mother Divine, each being is truly Thy shrine,
Transparent eyes reflect the outline of Thy mystic face.
Wherever we turn our look, we meet only Thy reassuring gaze.
44 - 45
Our Guardian Angel whom we call the Mother
Is a sweet and gentle person, extremely humble and always accessible.
She likes flowers, simple hearts, simple life, candor, frankness,
Childlike simplicity. She loves good taste, decency,
Beauty and sublimity in painting, music, dancing and acting.
She is moved to tears when she hears someone singing
From the depths of his soul "Ave Maria" or a hymn
To the Lord in Sanskrit or in any language. She is utterly good,
She does not like any ugliness. Unkindness, selfishness,
Meanness are very painful to Her. She likes sunshine and laughter.
She said once, "My children, I want you to be really good,
My children, I want you to be really happy."
Has She any form now? She is a Presence.
Our Guardian Angel resides in the heart of all living beings,
In the mystic solar plexus. There in the Sanctuary of the soul,
In the heart of the lotus, in the core of the mystic rose,
She is all that is beautiful, all that is good, all that is true and eternal.
A mystic Egyptian writing says, "She was, She is, and She will be."
Through yoga or concentration on the heart centre, you may discover
Her, the eternal Presence whom the mind of men has given
Many names and forms.
46 - 47
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