Canto 90The Inconscient
Book 16. Part Seven - Pondicherry Circa 1927 – 1947
Incomplete Poems
I have dared the abyss, I have climbed the night, I
have cloven the perfect Way.
The Inconscient
5Artist of cosmos wrapped in thy occult shadow,
Godhead sole awake in the dreams of Matter,
Thee and thy truth men searching for ever vainly,
Find and are baffled.
Always thou workst and seemst not to know thy workings,
10Yet thy touch, Geometer, wide-wayed Builder,
Vastest things can shape and minutest, potent,
Patient, unerring.
All is thou or is thine but who art thou, Dreamer,
Paradox ensouling the soulless spaces,
15Self-creator weaving thy magic figures,
Mechanist Mystic?
Who thou art none knoweth, ungrasped thy nature,
Ever we see thee veiled by thy titan forces,
Only some dim greatness we feel, a mute-eyed
20Inscrutable Presence.
Ageless, formless, nameless and uncreated,
Lost in night where never was seed of living,
Ancient, mighty, lone is thy wordless spirit,
Blind and immortal.
25All at first was only thy giant shadow;
Time then was not, space was not yet imagined,
Thoughtless, soundless lay the inconscient ocean
Emptily brooding.