The Witness Spirit


I dwell in the spirit’s calm nothing can move

And watch the actions of Thy vast world-force,

Its mighty wings that through infinity move


And the Time-gallopings of the deathless Horse.

This mute stupendous Energy that whirls

The stars and nebulae in its long train,

Like a huge Serpent through my being curls

With its diamond hood of joy and fangs of pain.


It rises from the dim inconscient deep

Upcoiling through the minds and hearts of men,

Then touches on some height of luminous sleep

The bliss and splendour of the eternal plane.


All this I bear in me, untouched and still,

Assenting to Thy all-wise inscrutable will.

In the Witness’s occult rooms with mind-built walls

On hidden interiors, lurking passages


Opened the windows of the inner sight.


From His epic Savitri:


He owned the house of undivided Time.

Lifting the heavy curtain of the flesh

He stood upon a threshold serpent-watched,

And peered into gleaming endless corridors,

Silent and listening in the silent heart

For the coming of the new and the unknown.


He gazed across the empty stillnesses

And heard the footsteps of the undreamed Idea

In the far avenues of the Beyond.

He heard the secret Voice, the Word that knows,

And saw the secret face that is our own.


All-causing, all-sustaining and aloof,

The Witness looks from his unshaken poise,

An Eye immense regarding all things done.

Apart, at peace above creation’s stir,


Immersed in the eternal altitudes,

He abode defended in his shoreless self,

Companioned only by the all-seeing One.



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