The poetry moves so smoothly and naturally that one just doesn’t think of its art, not even of its heart, the rasa, the essence, the joyous felicity is such an assuring gift that one knows that the “solar plexus” is fully satisfied, that something else has taken care of the expression, and of the beat and the metre, that it is the rhythm coming from the distant home of the truth, as the Veda would say, that has taken possession of the multidimensional reality even in the expression of the secular as much as of the esoteric. Strive no more to measure by the poetic technique the breadth, the dynamic flaming wideness of the inspiration, if we have adapt a line from above. Very true and beautifully expressed. Anyone who is familiar with some details of the circumstances of Sri Aurobindo's withdrawal, and anyone who has heard about the suffering that the Mother went through in the last few months before She withdrew will be deeply moved upon reading this passage, each time. It is so intensely autobiographical, so real. The poetic element almost takes a back seat here.