Immerse yourself in Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri: All she remembered on this day of Fate #music #poetry

#mantras #yoga #meditation #spirituality #sriaurobindo #savitri Sri Aurobindo's epic poem “Savitri” set to music for inspiration, meditation, spiritual exploration "The time spent in its atmosphere is not wasted." — The Mother @suno_savitri Book 5 Canto 2 All she remembered on this day of Fate, The road that hazarded not the solemn depths But turned away to flee to human homes, The wilderness with its mighty monotone, The morning like a lustrous seer above, The passion of the summits lost in heaven, The titan murmur of the endless woods. Hidden in the forest’s bosom of loneliness Amid the leaves the inmate voices called, Sweet like desires enamoured and unseen, Cry answering to low insistent cry. Behind slept emerald dumb remotenesses, Haunt of a Nature passionate, veiled, denied To all but her own vision lost and wild. Earth in this beautiful refuge free from cares Murmured to the soul a song of strength and peace. Only one sign was there of a human tread: A single path, shot thin and arrowlike Into this bosom of vast and secret life, Pierced its enormous dream of solitude. Here first she met on the uncertain earth The one for whom her heart had come so far. As might a soul on Nature’s background limned Stand out for a moment in a house of dream Created by the ardent breath of life, So he appeared against the forest verge Inset twixt green relief and golden ray. As if a weapon of the living Light, Erect and lofty like a spear of God His figure led the splendour of the morn. Noble and clear as the broad peaceful heavens A tablet of young wisdom was his brow; Freedom’s imperious beauty curved his limbs, The joy of life was on his open face. His look was a wide daybreak of the gods, His head was a youthful Rishi’s touched with light, His body was a lover’s and a king’s. In the magnificent dawning of his force Built like a moving statue of delight He illumined the border of the forest page. Out of the ignorant eager toil of the years Abandoning man’s loud drama he had come Led by the wisdom of an adverse Fate To meet the ancient Mother in her groves. A Veda-knower of the unwritten book Perusing the mystic scripture of her forms, He had caught her hierophant significances, Her sphered immense imaginations learned, Taught by sublimities of stream and wood And voices of the sun and star and flame And chant of the magic singers on the boughs And the dumb teaching of four-footed things. Helping with confident steps her slow great hands He leaned to her influence like a flower to rain And, like the flower and tree a natural growth, Widened with the touches of her shaping hours. The mastery free natures have was his And their assent to joy and spacious calm; One with the single Spirit inhabiting all, He laid experience at the Godhead’s feet; His mind was open to her infinite mind, His acts were rhythmic with her primal force; He had subdued his mortal thought to hers. That day he had turned from his accustomed paths; For One who, knowing every moment’s load, Can move in all our studied or careless steps, Had laid the spell of destiny on his feet And drawn him to the forest’s flowering verge.