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At the Feet of The Mother

The Inconscient Foundation

My soul regards its veiled subconscient base;
All the dead obstinate symbols of the past,
The hereditary moulds, the stamps of race
Are upheld to sight, the old imprints effaced.

In a downpour of supernal light it reads
The black Inconscient’s enigmatic script —
Recorded in a hundred shadowy screeds
An inert world’s obscure enormous drift;

All flames, is torn and burned and cast away.
Here slept the tables of the Ignorance,
There the dumb dragon edicts of her sway,
The scriptures of Necessity and Chance.

Pure is the huge foundation now and nude,
A boundless mirror of God’s infinitude.


Notes on Text
18 October 1939, revised 7 February 1940. Two handwritten manuscripts.

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Between the age of eighteen and twenty I had attained a conscious and constant union with the divine Presence and that I had done it all alone.