The Redemption Of The Unconscious. Poem by Subrata Ray

Where from comes the soul floating by,
And where returns again,
Where and where are the incessant chains!
That germinate, and harvest the mind and brain,
Where! where! they stand crying for the answer.

The restless trains know no destination,
Arguing and seeking go rampant through times,
Mewing and mewing with nowhere going,
Pass, evacuating generation after generation!

Allotted leases question themselves,
And conventions flag sermons on faith,
But no negation of the unreality of dreams affirm!

Says not the self of the infinity within,
That remains buried as the joyous dome,
Demands not the mind the bath of the conscious,
For mingling with and dissolving into the Brahman!

Conscious oblivion of the conscious,
For the remotest, yet the nearest touch,
That erases the rust of the procreative mind,
Oh! You yourself by your nature is already redeemed.