The Mystic. Poem by Subrata Ray

A mystic can be as wind is free,
And remains untouched by any one,
He lives in the cell where rings God's bell,
And emits love as fragrance does.
A mystic gives God's godly touch.

A mystic is a transformed being,
In mundane body he/she has subtle dwelling,
The clouds of illusions vacate his sky,
In him the revelation of the Unconscious buds by and by.

A mystic attains immortality in life,
Among the humans he is the special type,
He ignites love and evokes purest intellect,
In his life there is neither cause-reason, nor fate.