A collection of mystical poetry through the ages
“A Poet’s affair is with God, to whom he is accountable, and of whom is his reward.”
—Robert Browning in a letter to John Ruskin
I FIRST MET Alan Jacobs in my mid-20s at the Sri Ramana Maharshi Foundation in London, of which he later became its exemplary president. Over the years, Alan was a mentor to me, owing to his profound integrity and inexhaustible knowledge, as well as being the kindest and most compassionate of friends. An accomplished writer and poet, he published nearly 30 books, mostly with Watkins Publishing, including biographies and collected works on Ramana, Henry David Thoreau, Plato, Gandhi, Marcus Aurelius and the Dalai Lama, as well as transcreations of the Gnostic Gospels, the Bhavagad Gita and the Principal Upanishads.
In spite of everything, arguably the only question we need to concern ourselves with is the nature of our existence, a philosophical enquiry to which Alan Jacobs (9th September 1929–25th July 2020) devoted his entire life. As we approach the fourth anniversary of Alan’s passing, The Culturium focuses on one of his most popular works, Poems to Make the Soul Sing, a beautiful collection of mystical verse of all faiths and traditions from the beginning of recorded time up to the present day.
Emily Carr, Vanquished.
Image: Public Domain
The poetry of mysticism might be defined on the one hand as a temperamental reaction to the vision of Reality: on the other, as a form of prophecy. As it is the special vocation of the mystical consciousness to mediate between two orders, going out in loving adoration towards God and coming home to tell the secrets of Eternity to other men; so the artistic self-expression of this consciousness has also a double character. It is love-poetry, but love-poetry which is often written with a missionary intention.
—Evelyn Underhill, Introduction to Songs of Kabir (trans. Tagore)
Emily Carr, Forest.
Image: Public Domain
Divinity
What is the nature of God or the One?
Why should I wish to see God better than this day?
I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then,
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass;
I find letters from God dropped in the street, and every one is signed by God’s name …
—Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Emily Carr, Cordova Drift.
Image: Public Domain
Transcendence
What deep truths can we find in our spiritual quest?
Upon the sea of Blissful Awareness waves of ecstatic love arise:
Rapture divine! Play of God’s Bliss!
Ah, how enthralling!
Wondrous waves of the sweetness of God, ever new and ever enchanting,
Rise on the surface, ever assuming
Forms ever fresh.
Then once more in the Great Communion all are merged, as the barrier walls
of time and space dissolve and vanish:
Dance then, O Mind!
Dance in delight, with hands upraised, chanting
Lord Hari’s holy name.
—Anon
Emily Carr, Shoreline.
Image: Public Domain
Love
How can we give and cherish most profoundly?
The strong shore is my beloved
And I am his sweetheart.
We are at last united by love, and
Then the moon draws me from him.
I go to him in haste and depart
Reluctantly, with many
Little farewells.I steal swiftly from behind the
Blue horizon to cast the silver of
My foam upon the gold of his sand, and
We blend in melted brilliance.I quench his thirst and submerge his
Heart; he softens my voice and subdues
My temper.
At dawn I recite the rules of love upon
His ears, and he embraces me longingly.At eventide I sing to him the song of
Hope, and then print smooth kisses upon
His face; I am swift and fearful, but he
Is quiet, patient, and thoughtful. His
Broad bosom soothes my restlessness.As the tide comes we caress each other,
When it withdraws, I drop to his feet in
Prayer.Many times have I danced around mermaids
As they rose from the depths and rested
Upon my crest to watch the stars;
Many times have I heard lovers complain
Of their smallness, and I helped them to sigh.Many times have I teased the great rocks
And fondled them with a smile, but never
Have I received laughter from them;
Many times have I lifted drowning souls
And carried them tenderly to my beloved
Shore. He gives them strength as he
Takes mine.Many times have I stolen gems from the
Depths and presented them to my beloved
Shore. He takes them in silence, but still
I give for he welcomes me ever.In the heaviness of night, when all
Creatures seek the ghost of Slumber, I
Sit up, singing at one time and sighing
At another. I am awake always.Alas! Sleeplessness has weakened me!
But I am a lover, and the truth of love
Is strong.
I may be weary, but I shall never die.
—Khalil Gibran, ‘Song of The Wave XVII’
Emily Carr, Western Forest.
Image: Public Domain
Devotion
How might we explore and affirm our faith?
He who is in you and outside you,
Who works through all hands,
Who walks on all feet,
Whose body are all ye,
Him worship, and break all other idols!He who is at once the high and low,
The sinner and the saint,
Both God and worm,
Him worship — visible, knowable, real, omnipresent,
Break all other idols!In whom is neither past life
Nor future birth nor death,
In whom we always have been
And always shall be one,
Him worship. Break all other idols!Ye fools! who neglect the living God,
And His infinite reflections with which the world is full.While ye run after imaginary shadows,
That lead alone to fights and quarrels,
Him worship, the only visible!
Break all other idols!
—Swami Vivekananda
Emily Carr, Forest Painting.
Image: Public Domain
Peace
How can we find stillness amidst turmoil and loss?
The Seven Factors of the awakened mind—
Seven ways whereby we may Nibbana win–
All, all have I developed and made ripe,
Even according to the Buddha’s word.For I therein have seen as with mine eyes
The Bless’d, the Exalted One. Last of all lives
Is this that makes up Me. The round of births
Is vanquished—Ne’er shall I be again!
—Jenti
Emily Carr, Deep Forest.
Image: Public Domain
Nature
What insights can we take from creation?
For years I sought the Many in the One,
I thought to find lost waves and broken rays,
The rainbow’s faded colours in the sun—
The dawns and twilights of forgotten days.But now I seek the One in every form,
Scorning no vision that a dewdrop holds,
The gentle Light that shines behind the storm,
The Dream that many a twilight hour enfolds.
—Eva Gore-Booth, ‘The Quest’
Emily Carr, Indian Church.
Image: Public Domain
Spirit
What is sacred about the individual self?
Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.
—Mark Strand, ‘The Coming of Light’
Post Notes
- Feature image: Emily Carr, Above the Gravel Pit, Public Domain
- Alan Jacobs: Who Am I?
- Alan Jacobs: Heart of Heart’s Chalice of Love’s Fire
- Daniel Ladinsky: The Need
- Kahlil Gibran: Poet, Painter, Prophet
- T. S. Eliot: A Man Out of Time
- Rabindranath Tagore: Gitanjali
- Roger Housden: Ten Poems for Difficult Times
- Dag Hammarskjöld: Markings
- Liam Ó Muirthile: Camino de Santiago, Dánta, Poems, Poemas
- The Culturium uses affiliate marketing links via the Amazon Associates Programme
