Victory On The Brink

"अजो नित्यः शाश्वतोऽयं पुराणो

न हन्यते हन्यमाने शरीरे ॥"

"This is not born, nor does it die, nor is it a thing that comes into being once and passing away will never come into being again. It is unborn, ancient, sempiternal; it is not slain with the slaying of the body."

~~Sri Aurobindo's Interpretation 

Our minutes swallow our seconds and then hours,
All we build flow in rivers of tears into oceans.
Our bodies melt; grain by grain they fall - our palaces and towers,
Whilst to Time, and the tides, we sing our paeans.

Kurukshetra spun around me; tongues of fire and black clouds ate the blues;
Skies disintegrated in flakes of black snow,
Burying heaven and earth in shrouds of sullen hues,
While blitzing off into His gnashing teeth I saw them go -

Empires, kings, armies, mountains, planets, galaxies;
It burnt so hot, gravity's waves crashed time into space
Blasting universes in a billion furnaces,
And through the thunder that almost blinded, came His terrible voice,

"Go, Arjuna, beloved of gods and men, raise thy weapons dire!
That which I have slain, thou canst not slay again -
As the Body casts off its worn out, old attire,
So the Soul, elemental, empyrean, soars above all pain!"

Small comfort are those words, when crushed by the guilt and shame
Of shedding kindred blood, lower than dirt I sink!
Yet, alone, with none but Gandiva to share my blame,
Raising the God-gifted conch, here I stand on the brink!