The Inner Fields

There is a brighter ether than this blue
Pretence of an enveloping heavenly vault,
Royaler investiture than this massed assault
Of emerald rapture pearled with tears of dew.

Immortal spaces of cerulean hue Are in our reach and fields
without this fault Of drab brown earth and streams
that never halt In their deep murmur which white flowers strew

Floating like stars upon a strip of sky.
This world behind is made of truer stuff
Than the manufactured tissue of earth’s grace.

There we can walk and see the gods go by
And sip from Hebe’s cup nectar enough
To make for us heavenly limbs and deathless face.

14-3-1947

Sri Aurobindo

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