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.
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 and then only I vibrate and my life even so insignificant
Glows and burns in ecstasy like a meteor in explosion.
Niranjan Guha Roy
See also
Nothing found.