Aurobindo 122 Savitri Book 7 Poem by Indira Renganathan

An appreciation on Savitri-
Book Seven:The Book of Yoga
Canto Seven:The Discovery of the Cosmic Spirit
and the Cosmic Consciousness
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's

'In the little hermitage in the forest's heart,
In the sunlight and the moonlight and the dark
The daily human life went plodding on
Even as before with its small unchanging works
And its spare outward body of routine
And happy quiet of ascetic peace.
The old beauty smiled of the terrestrial scene;
She too was her old gracious self to men.'

'Accustomed only to read outward signs
None saw aught new in her, none divined her state; '
'To all she was the same perfect Savitri: '
'An impersonal emptiness walked and spoke in her,
Something perhaps unfelt, unseen, unknown
Guarded the body for its future work,
Or Nature moved in her old stream of force.'
A preparatory mind alert inside...

'Thus was she lost within to separate self;
Her mortal ego perished in God's night.'
'There was some high surpassing Secrecy,
And when she sat alone with Satyavan,
Her moveless mind with his that searched and strove,
In the hush of the profound and intimate night
She turned to the face of a veiled voiceless Truth
Hid in the dumb recesses of the heart

'Something unknown, unreached, inscrutable
Sent down the messages of its bodiless Light,
Cast lightning flashes of a thought not ours
Crossing the immobile silence of her mind: '
If it is not the told mythology
'What's next? ' is my curiosity.........

............My consciousness this moment,
O'Guru, I'm in awe....in invincible heights
Ineffable Thee embellishing poetic creation
My inquisitive apprehension, erring Thee may opine
May there so, let Savitri in my self arise
Aroused there so be knowledge and fortune

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Note; Some more inspiring descriptive and
informative lines from Book7 Canto7

Page 551

The Ancient Mother clutched her child to her breast
Pressing her close in her environing arms,
As if earth ever the same could for ever keep
The living spirit and body in her clasp,
As if death were not there nor end nor change.

They saw a person where was only God's vast,
A still being or a mighty nothingness.

Around her soul's muteness all moved as of old;
A vacant consciousness watched from within,
Empty of all but bare Reality.


Page 552

Perhaps she bore made conscious in her breast
........A zero circle of being's totality.


It used her speech and acted in her acts,
It was beauty in her limbs, life in her breath;
The original Mystery wore her human face.

Only a body was left, the ego's shell
Afloat mid drift and foam of the world-sea,
A sea of dream watched by a motionless sense
In a figure of unreal reality.

These gone, the transcendental grew a myth,
The Holy Ghost without the Father and Son,
Or, a substratum of what once had been,