Page:The Spirit Of Oriental Poetry.pdf/15

 but it  is  true,  that  though imprisoned in the physical, we still attain to Nirvana through His love. The candle and the moth is a true instance of complete self-denial in full affirmation of personal love for the Beloved. This lavish  wealth  of  renunciation  is  the  mysterious  strain  of  tile  divine  poetry  of  our  scriptures. Moth and candle is the supreme motif.

If He chose to speak He employs the throat of the whole creation. If not, one single word in His presence is blasphemy. Spiritual joy is always autocratic, it obeys no law, but that of its own being. The tempest of the seas is its bugle horn, so is the silence of death!

No soul that has failed to find its own centre can participate in the pleasures and pursuits of life with good grace. Divine poetry does not please everyone; it is the refuge of the desolate. The way to find it lies through the knowledge of ignorance and of the illusions of life. Once reached, all is silent  there;  the  disciple  stands  face  to  face  with  the  Beloved. What can  be  sweeter  than  this meeting? Truth is  realized;  the  tree  of  life  is  in  blossom,  its  fragrance  floats  in  the  air,  and  man  forgets  all  else. The great  illusion  has  melted  into  truth  itself. Thenceforward life  is  pure  rapture. When the soul is full of Him, perfection is everywhere; nothing mars the sense of the Infinite.Whatsoever weighs down the inner self and seeks to imprison it in illusion is foreign to the spirit of  poetry. It is  irreligious. True poetry  must  free  us. There is  no  freedom  in  excitement,  however  intense  it  may  be. There is  no  freedom  in  sorrow  and  renunciation,  however  perfect. Freedom lies in the full realization of the Divine within our own soul. The full richness of our soul lies in its own centre. In that ever un-balanced balance of our repose lies salvation. I do not believe that nature or man can make us free unless we, through His grace, realize for ourselves the truth of things and engraft ourselves on the Infinite. What has not yet gained its own freedom cannot free us. “Let me but once engraft myself on Thee, O Infinite! as a branch on a whole tree, and then let me slowly drink the life sap of Thy immortal Being and just blossom there.” —Guru Nanak.“Just blossom there” is poetry, spirituality immortality. Life is lightest in its own blo