The poetry room

by Mary Angel Finn, Matthew Smith, 
Cassia Berman, Sri Aurobindo, 
Chandresh Patel
The Struggle 

As I look back in the past 
When I didn't have a dime, 
No food, no shelter but 
plenty of time. 

So cold and so hungry the 
nights were very long; 
But there was someone watching 
who made me very strong. 

Day by day was a struggle and 
I was feeling very low; 
She was watching even then and 
I didn't even know. 

Her arms were wrapped around me and 
guiding me every day 
Then sent me someone special 
to help me on my way. 

He taught me about The Mother and 
now I really know 
It was Her that watched and cared and 
taught me how to grow. 

The past is far behind me, but 
I'll never forget the days 
I was taught about The Mother and 
all Her gentle ways. 

So as I get into my bed and 
then put out the light, 
I thank Her oh so deeply- 
Goodnight, my Mother, Goodnight. 

—Mary (Angel) Finn

A Walk Into God 

Ts I walked down the path of doom 
Cramped by death as there was no room 
I wondered what it would be like in hell 
Would it be burning hot as stories tell 

     I walked on and on down the endless road 
     Thinking about my future abode 
     Looking ahead into the pitch black hole 
     With not a single body to bear a soul
And as I was about to reach the end 
Turning around the last death bend 
I saw the gods in my head 
Full of life, not at all dead 
     Turning the final bend all was bright 
     For before me sat a heavenly sight 
     A being too pure for the mortal eye 
     A thing too deep that can never die
Then I realized I was not alone 
I had my mind, my heart and bone 
Then it became more clear in my mind 
The lord of all I finally did find 
     Then I found that I was 
     Just as everybody does 
     In my soft heavenly bed 
     For that strange night was finally dead.
—Matthew Smith, student, Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education 

An Already Answered Prayer 

Finding God is no problem. 
She exists within each breath, 
each flower, 
each tick of the clock. 
But finding a way to live in this world in a woman's body 
never forgetting 
that in the very absence 
of the fulfillment of my desire 
Her presence caresses me 
has been a lifelong despairing frustration. 

O Mother, 
in this time 
when men and women 
are only beginning to learn 
to find the balance of creation 
in themselves and each other 
please condense this Universe of swirling stars, 
too vast for my form to embrace, 
into a flesh and blood man 
as real as I feel myself to be 
with whom to share the daily rituals of this illusion 
in love and in joy 
until we both dissolve in Thee. 

—Cassia Berman


Someone leaping from the rocks 
Past me ran with windblown locks 
Like a startled bright surmise 
Visible to mortal eyes, — 
Just a cheek of frightened rose 
That with sudden beauty glows, 
Just a footstep like the wind 
And a hurried glance behind, 
And then nothing, — as a thought 
Escapes the mind ere it is caught. 
Someone of the heavenly rout 
From behind the veil ran out. 

—Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems

Out At Sea 

Drifting, out into the sea, 
Up and Down, aimlessly I flow. 
What message is in me? 
To what distant shore do I go? 

I have seen the tempest, 
Ridden high crests of the storm, 
Nature has thrown her best 
To dislodge my inner form. 

Days of endless calm, 
Slowly fade the memory... 
No prayer, not even a psalm, 
Can end this lonely misery. 

Hope and Faith, keep neck asway, 
To hear the gulls, I strain. 
Gentle breeze, picks its way, 
Softly Nudging me in its train. 

I dance, I summersault, 
Life's-a-jolly, I have a ball. 
Waves-a-roring, I catapault, 
Into the arms, of a small.... 

    ...little Boy. 
Chandresh Patel 
Out At The Beach  

Dashing through the pile of fallen leaves, 
We jump into the car seat, my soul and me. 
The Mother has promised us a ride to the sea, 
Away from daily drudgery of rolled up sleeves. 

“Cares” got whooshed out of the windows, 
As Joy-Ride took El-Dorado wings. 
Nothing was kept in shadows, 
As Sun-Light bathed my sins. 

The beach lay long, clean and bright, 
Open, inviting, yet none was in sight. 
The Mother and I walked along the shore, 
Hand in hand, joys unfelt, untold before. 

My soul yet was still sulking, 
Dragging its feet, leaden and stulting. 
When out of the froth, jumped out a bottle, 
My soul found its elusive onward throttle. 

—Chandresh Patel 
Time Is 

Time is too slow for those who wait, 
too swift for those who fear, 
too long for those who grieve, 
too short for those who laugh, 
but for those who love, time is eternity. 

—David LaFlamme, It’s a Beautiful Day 
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