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At the Feet of The Mother

Like a Sacred Symbol

Then a faint whisper of her touched the soil,
Breathed like a hidden need the soul divines;
The eye of the great world discovered her
And wonder lifted up its bardic voice.

A key to a Light still kept in being’s cave,
The sun-word of an ancient mystery’s sense,
Her name ran murmuring on the lips of men
Exalted and sweet like an inspired verse
Struck from the epic lyre of rumour’s winds
Or sung like a chanted thought by the poet Fame.

But like a sacred symbol’s was that cult.

[Savitri: Book Four Canto Two]

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