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At the Feet of The Mother


He is in me, round me, facing everywhere.
Self-walled in ego to exclude His right,
I stand upon its boundaries and stare
Into the frontiers of the Infinite.

Each finite thing I see is a façade;
From its windows looks at me the Illimitable.
In vain was my prison of separate body made;
His occult presence burns in every cell.

He has become my substance and my breath;
He is my anguish and my ecstasy.
My birth is His eternity’s sign, my death
A passage of His immortality.

My dumb abysses are His screened abode;
In my heart’s chamber lives the unworshipped God.

Notes on Text
17 October 1939. Three handwritten manuscripts, the first two entitled “The Omnipresent”.

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