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THE SHAPE OF EVENTS TO COME

                    Conclusion

 

(i)

Today mankind cannot survive for long,
Divided into fragments, if a strong
Decision-making body at the head
Of one United World, whose rule is spread
To each and every corner of the globe,
Is not appointed soon to look and probe
Into the main affairs of every state,
Drawn from all nations now, and not too late,
Kept on the o'erall task to build and plan
A new world order for progressive man.

It is high time that mankind heeds the signs
Which point to what the racial mind designs,
What is the surest method we can find
To build a war-free world for humankind,
And end the menace of a nuclear war
Which, from all indications, is not far,
To save from horror, death and agony
Millions of guiltless souls who cannot see
How close they are to yawning jaws of death
Or life-long torture borne to the last breath.

Of all this mad race for supremacy
In nuclear power the only end can be
A confrontation on a luckless day,
And this is what my visions, too, portray.

A cry arises from my troubled heart,
A crushing load descends to press me down,
I feel all of my body ache and smart
And in a gloomy sea of sorrow drown,
As with eyes open and the mind awake
I am allowed to watch scene after scene
Of stark, appalling horror that will make
The blooming earth, now lovely and serene,
A foul inferno, glowing red in space,
Where human lust, become the cause of doom,
Millions will kill, and millions clean efface,
Or slowly with dire agony consume.

Whole towns will vanish or in ruins lie,
And deserts burn where crowded cities were,
Millions with hunger, thirst or terror die,
And millions run round shrieking mad with fear.
Millions disfigured, crippled, wounded, maimed,
Tortured at every step, would limp and crawl,
Their faces pale with anguish, eyes inflamed,
With hardship or exhaustion dead to fall.
Men, women, children, sick, infirm and weak
Disheveled, sleepless, hungry, plagued by flies,
Too ill to drive them off, to move or speak,
In vain will look for help till their hope dies.

No horror story e'er conceived so far,
No tale of ghastly murders ever told,
No picture of the havoc done in war
Can match the ghastly scenes that will unfold.

Fiery cyclones racing with lightning speeds,
And flaming hurricanes, extending far,
Will chase escaping crowds to burn, like reeds,
Or roast them coal-black, as if dipped in tar.

This false, deceptive glamor, pomp and show,
In which pretentious vanity delights,
Nemesis will into disorder throw,
And on more sober lines rebuild the sites.
For nature has decreed that every time
Man barters his soul to indulge his lust,
All that he harvests by this heinous crime
Against himself, will be reduced to dust.

This age of boundless wealth, uncounted goods
And endless wonders, which grow day by day,
May end soon, for on it disaster broods,
And scorching hurricanes are on the way
To close an era that has grown too rich
And reckless for man's health and safety both,
And, if not ended at this moment, which
Would seriously distort his inner growth.

Why view the future with a sinking heart,
And try to find retreats to escape the doom,
The Lesson is designed to cause a smart,
For wholesale healthy changes to make room.

The wonder is we readily accept
The world of matter from the tiniest grain,
But when it comes to mind do we suspect
A World of which an Atom runs our brain?
This atom, clothed in flesh, we call the soul,
Ordained by slow ascent to know itself,
But oft in dark about its real goal,
Is lured by tempting pleasure, power and pelf.

For ages alchemists endeavored hard
To find the secret of eternal youth.
But nature does her Treasures so well guard
That few of them could hit upon the Truth,
Which is that hidden in the mortal frame
There is a splendor, blissful, calm and bright,
Not bound by time, devoid of form and name,
Which keeps the flame of life in us alight.
This wonder of creation we cannot
Imagine nor describe nor paint nor draw,
For here we reach the end of human thought,
The point where scholars line up with the raw.
These are the alternatives to choose from:
Either cremation in a nuclear storm,
And for the injured torment to the end,
A bleak and blasted world in which to spend
One's life, all comfort, joy and rest denied;
Or to renounce hate, prejudice and pride,
Excess, immoderation, greed and lust
For power, to foster mutual love and trust,
In tune with Faith's decrees and Laws of God,
To foot the same Path which the Enlightened trod.
Our progress on the path of truth involves
Greater concern for other's woe and weal,
Because the more the human mind evolves
The more it oneness with the rest should feel.
This is the reason why the enlightened mind
Has shown this noble trait throughout the past:
True Love and deep concern for all mankind
With selfless zeal for service to the last.
That is how nature regulates the play
Of life, as she ordains the eves and morns.
Some come, with bleeding hands, to sweep away
What some have sown and scattered-pins and thorns.

Remember, life can be a fairy tale,
A dancing sunbeam when it bathes in light
Some charming landscape, a blooming hill or dale,
And makes all that it touches alive and bright,
If for a fraction of the time we spend
In idle gossip, fun or vain pursuit,
We pray to Heaven a helping hand to lend
To those in pain, distress or want acute,
To see their shrunken hearts expand with joy,
And hope return to light their darkened lives;
To ease their pain and grief or to destroy
Their fear until the ebbing strength revives.

This highly gifted being is not born
To work himself to death for earthly things,
But to irradiate, like the sun at morn,
The light of love which cheer and warmth brings.
What, after all, is thoughtful man here for?
To toil and sweat for wealth or seats of power?
And lose them both at death or in a war,
Living in dread of this to the last hour?

There is enough provision, talent, wealth
To keep the race in plenty and in peace,
If greed and lust for power by trick or stealth
Did not the artless of these treasures fleece.
A warring mankind cannot co-exist
With modern weapons, one of them must cease:
Either complete ban on the Iron Fist
Or One World Order, for which labor pleas.

Contentment, truth, compassion, love and peace
Are more necessary for the health of brain
Than all the fabulous wealth of Rome and Greece,
To keep evolving mankind safe and sane.
Excessive lust, ambition, passion, greed
For earthly goods or power or carnal feasts
Can warp and twist the tender human seed,
And change the angels-to-be into beasts.

Allowed to wallow longer in the mire
Of reckless pleasure, craze for power and gold,
Mankind one day consumed in nuclear fire
Might cease-her story but a legend old.
The tragedy is that our leading minds,
Regardless of the crisis we are in,
Engrossed in their ambitious dreams of kinds,
Know not that we against our future sin.

This is why Revelation came to warn
Mankind, in time, to moderate her lust,
But treating Faith as a fictitious yarn
Science this crisis on the race has thrust.

Next two eventful decades will unfold,
An awe-inspiring Drama, staged by Fate,
To end the present order, as foretold,
With fires of war lit by greed, power-lust, hate.

When dust has settled on the fiery scene,
Then on the ashes of the past would rise
A One-World State built on the Golden Mean
To make man happy, healthy, peaceful, wise.

That air-befouling, earth-polluting ware
Upon which greed's ambitious empire stands,
Replaced by safer types, with thought and care,
Will pass from wasteful into thrifty hands.
In every civilization of the past
The storm came, when to pleasure, rank or gold
The rich and powerful, hungry to the last,
Like children mad for toys, their soul had sold.
The high and mighty of our day, again,
Do what their counterparts did in the past,
And hostile to the still-evolving brain,
Wait for their exit, too, the atomic blast.

(ii)

Unlike the men of learning, I do not
Depend on effort for creative thought,
Or on the opinions of great men to find
Support for the new thought born in my mind.
A formless Presence, infinitely wise,
An ocean of thought from which insights rise,
A grace unbounded and compassion deep,
Permit me many a time to have a peep
At a stupendous Something which no mind
That found access to it has e'er defined.
And born of firm conviction that cannot
Be had from aught conceived by mortal thought,
Or aught observed by eye or heard by ear,
But far more clear and intimately near,
I write these verses, like a pupil taught
By silent whispers coming out of naught.

And having gained this rare estate akin
To that of ancient seers, allowed to win
Approach to higher planes of consciousness,
So marvelous that no words can express
The wonder of it, I, although remiss
In many ways, transported to a bliss
And to abodes of such effulgent light,
Dancing before my vision day and night,
Such a Divine, effulgent silvery sheen,
Which fills with glory all the objects seen,
That in unbounded wonder at this sight,
At this enchanting Eden always bright,
I live in ecstasy day, night and morn,
Into a new world of experience born,
So rich, so full of grandeur, peace, delight,
That mind and senses, ravished by the sight,
Their contact with the external world withdraw
To watch the Inner with amaze and awe.

And Ah! the glorious realm in which I live,
Transporting, elevating, always new,
Beyond the horizon of my hopes and dreams,
All our philosophies and clever streams
Of thought, beyond conception, knowledge, guess,
That cannot be imagined more or less,
As foreign to the normal human mind
As sunlight is to one from birth is blind,
Or sugar to a man devoid of taste,
Or rapture of love to a virgin chaste:
A state of consciousness as far removed
From our conceptions though hard to be proved,
As light from darkness, summit from the base;
The future common asset of the race,
Towards which with slow, halting steps our brains
Are working their way up pulled back by chains
Which, due to ignorance, we often forge,
When we ourselves with earthly dainties gorge.

The difficulty, faced by ancient seers
To bring conviction home to their compeers,
Crops up as people cannot see the way
How this mysterious soul-uplifting ray
Of Cosmic Consciousness can bring about
So marvelous a change, remove all doubt
About Divinity, transform a man
Into a gifted seer, with power to scan
The complex problems which confront mankind,
At times too mixed up for a normal mind;
But clear as crystal to an illumined sage,
Ordained to expose the errors of his age.

The flash of great discoveries, matchless skill,
And gift of poesy, not gained at will,
And inspiration of great authors rise
From depths of consciousness, where genius lies,
Thence come the moods and visions that create
New gems of thought and masterpieces great
Of science, art, and literature which
Have made mankind so cultured, wise and rich.

The fire that has transformed the face of earth
From man's cortical matter ne'er took birth;
But comes, by Grace, from regions far away
Where mortal lusts and passions hold no sway,
Where sovereign Consciousness in state abides,
And in the appointed manner mankind guides
With vision, insight, flash of thought or trance
Which scholars wrongly attribute to chance.

The blooming garden of creative thought
In man, which has such sweeping changes wrought,
That from a helpless, weak, impoverished state
He touched the peak of progress in a spate
Of great discoveries that had lain concealed
In mortal mind for long to be unsealed,
By Chosen Vessels, only at the time
And place ordained before by Laws Sublime,
And who can say what other priceless gems
Still lie uncovered to become the stems
For e'en more precious buds of thought and skill
To raise evolving mankind higher still.

From war to peace, barbarism to the height
Of culture, to ideals and visions bright,
Man is ascending step by step without
The least idea what all this is about,
Why this bewildering life, why peace and war,
Why love and hate and why these problems bar
The understanding of what brought him here
To think and wonder, to run here and there
To meet his pressing needs, to have a weight
Around his neck, tied hard by cruel Fate.

These hard, unanswered Riddles from the dawn
Of reason many vainly brooded on,
To leave as mystified as when they came,
Including wise men of great name and fame,
All working, sleeping, loving, hating in
Their own peculiar way to lose or win,
To pass the round of day, night, eve and morn,
And leave as empty-handed as when born.
The sweating labor done through all their life,
The daily chores, the struggles and the strife,
All fading, like an ended dream at morn,
With the last breath of every mortal born,
A dancing bubble on the ocean's face,
Lost in immensities of time and space.

All this alarm of war and threat of guns,
Of frightful missiles and dread megatons
Is nature's warning of a faulty trend
Which makes material goals the aim and end
Of life, for man comes not to act a farce,
To be a well-led, brightly harnessed horse,
Who makes his round of duties with his eyes
Only half open to the earth and skies,
Oblivious to his glorious destiny,
From what he is now what he has to be.

Man does not know that he has woken up
To earthly life to sip the ambrosial cup
Of Life Sublime, to realize that he,
Free from the earth belongs to Eternity:
The cream of earth, the bright Immortal Spark,
The priceless Gem of Life, lost in the dark
Of ignorance, the Glory of the Sun
And stars, the countless host contained in One.

The fragment and the whole, of all the known,
The knower in his majesty alone;
The ocean, all-surpassing, e'er supreme
Of Cosmic Consciousness a Deathless Beam
That has to know itself to rise above
The lower passions, high in Truth and Love,
And building on this earth a Paradise,
In ecstasy to roam the boundless skies;
And drawn in oneness with all that exists,
Released from mental clouds and sensual mists,
To taste the bliss of rapturous union with
The Fount of Life-the Eternal Ground beneath
The massive Cosmos of effect and cause,
Which melts away, as if it never was!

 

Written by: Gopi Krishna


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