THE MADNESS OF NUCLEAR ENERGY, WEAPONS & WAR

Pictures of babies & children from Chernobyl, Iraq and Afghanistan, innocent victims of nuclear contamination and nuclear warfare (and human insanity). A Higher Justice awaits all those responsible for this Crime Against Humanity and Life.

AFTER TCHERNOBYL, AFGHANISTAN, IRAQ and FUKUSHIMA, WHO WILL BE THE NEXT VICTIMS...?

Prophetic Warning on the madness of nuclear energy, weapons and war...

In all the stormy epochs left behind
Had e'er man such a morbid state of mind
As now, when he has built to win in war
Atrocious weapons that can end his kind?

The world condition has come to a pass
Where greatest danger to the human mass
Comes not from natural causes or disease,
But from the leading men who hold the keys
Of power in their weak but ambitious hands,
And can employ the might of powerful lands
To cause death and destruction on a scale
Before which all the powers of language fail.

One of the ways to meet this deadly threat
To safety is for masses not to abet
The men in power in their ambitious aims,
Which would be hard since they propose their names.

Moreover the rulers do not act alone
For many a wealthy and ambitious drone,
Surrounding them, like kites, plans and conspires
To plunge a nation in the awful fires
Of war, which in this era has become
Pure homicidal mass-delirium.

Now watching helplessly, with deep alarm,
The growing stockpile of the nuclear arm,
Some try in vain to stem the rising flood
Their own imprudence o'er the planet spread,
Which gave unbridled license to the strong,
With full impunity to do a wrong,
Mistaught there is no God to judge their deeds,
And no Celestial Court to award the meeds.

No other single factor ever did
Such harm to mankind as was done, amid
The glamorous progress of the present age,
By scholars who condemned the illumined sage,
Deceived by reason, like an impish wraith,
Who cut unwisely at the roots of faith.

It is not reason but a second sight,
A higher faculty that can throw light
On this recondite subject, at this time
Of such a moment and importance prime,
That every other major problem fades
Into unimportance, as if lost in shades,
For at this critical juncture human life
Is balanced on the thin edge of a knife,
Is in the gravest jeopardy because
We lack in knowledge of Celestial Laws.

Nuclear Weapons: A Symptom of Abnormality

Let us sincerely for a moment ask
Ourselves, when resting from the daily task,
Does not existence at this or that place
Of nuclear engines jeopardize the race?

Is not the threat so imminent and grave
That we may one day find it hard to save
Not just ourselves and all we love and own,
But all the art and culture that has grown
With man's unceasing, patient labor done
By countless generations one by one?

Is not the danger, from what we are told
By scores of experts, many hundredfold
More than that posed by all the plagues combined?
For it can cause extinction of mankind;
Or, at the least, kill millions or distort
In such a ghastly way that nothing short
Of death can end their frightful suffering more
Intense than that of any cancer sore.

What stupor then prevents from crying out,
The myriads doomed without a shade of doubt,
Millions condemned to lifelong agony
So terrible one cannot bear to see?

What destiny creates this nonchalance
Towards a fast approaching Kali's* dance;
Which, if not warded off, will leave behind
Millions dead, millions wounded, millions blind,
Millions disfigured, millions maimed and crazed;
Their assets blown up or to the ground razed?

No one to ease their pain or mourn the loss,
For all the dazed survivors too will cross
Into a horrid world e'en worse than hell,
To face grim famines and diseases fell.

Why are our scholars loath to use their pen
To tell the naked truth to common men?
Do they believe the danger is not so
Immediate or so serious as I show?

Do they suppose the piles of nuclear arms
Will vanish as does snow when sunshine warms
Or that a thousand billion worth of stocks
Will lie unused like subterranean rocks
Or that the havoc of a nuclear war
Will not be so great or extend so far
As I depict, and mankind might survive
The blow, without much loss, to live and thrive?

Our failure to respond to such a threat
Reveals a symptom for the first time met
In human history, for at no time
Have masses acted such a pantomime;
Remained so passive with no word or sign
To show they are not dumb and stupid kine,
But have the common sense at once to grasp
That they are threatened by a deadly asp,
About to bury deep its deadly fangs
In them, and that their life by a thread hangs.

What widely met oblivion tightly holds
The rich and poor in its confining folds?
Or what hypnotic influence sends to sleep
Distinguished scholars that, like docile sheep,
They nimbly trot towards a slaughter house
Obediently, as quiet as a mouse?

The strange indifference which we now display
Towards the greatest problem of our day,
Towards an issue that now holds the scales
Between our life and death, and grief entails,
Call it inertia or, whate'er it be,
A keen observer cannot fail to see
And think it foolish of us, if not worse,
That we should grow so mentally perverse
As ev'n grim prospects of extinction stir
No feeling in us that may be we err,
And ought to ponder on this point to find
The reason for this numbness in our mind?

For probing this point, as well as we can,
We cannot but mark that in modern man
A strange departure from a healthy mode
Of thought has come about, as if a load
Sits heavy on his brain, that he has grown
Indifferent to his death e'en when foreknown.

Were there not something in our actions wrong,
The Evil Forces could not grow so strong,
Could not create in us the fatal trends
To slaughter millions for our selfish ends,
Could not have brought the masses down so low
To be the dumb spectators of a show,
Which now keeps mankind in a state of dread
With clouds of mass destruction o'er her head.

Perhaps, our attitude is partly due
To this, that we have not a picture true
Of what will happen in a nuclear bout,
And, may be, some of us regard with doubt
The claims made for the hideous nuclear blast,
And think the damage cannot be so vast,
Or that the neutral countries will remain
Unharmed and suffer no distress or pain.

But such a stand is yet again a sign
That we are acting like unthinking kine,
For e'en young children know well what befell
When two small nuclear bombs created hell
In Japan, forcing that brave land to sue
For peace, to avoid more such bolts from the blue.

What havoc would result when nuclear darts
A thousand times more powerful, strike the hearts
Of densely peopled towns and countrysides
To spread a vapor in which death resides,
To emit a radiation that can kill
At scores of miles or burn to ash or grill?

What would befall when dozens, if not more,
Of latest nuclear shafts bombard a shore?
And what would happen when to win in war,
The two belligerents, from each other far,
In hundreds use their most destructive darts,
All aimed at densely populated parts
Of hostile lands to spread, where'er they fall,
For many hundred miles a lethal pall
Of deadly fallout long to hang on earth,
Causing outrageous weather, famine, dearth,
And forming soon into a biting cloud
Enwrap mankind in a corrosive shroud.

We should remember that a missile war,
Whether the combatants are near or far,
Will not be fought out on a foreign shore,
But in our country, at our very door,
And to our chambers will be wafted fast
The flesh-consuming poison of the blast,
Creating dreadful havoc far and near,
Such scenes of devastation, death and fear
That can the dazed survivors rob of will,
Their minds unhinge or with sheer horror kill.
Too soon the whole disrupted human world
Into the depths of chaos will be hurled,
The scene of panic-stricken, frantic crowds,
Unnerved completely by the mushroom clouds,
And stunned, when they entirely shattered find
The interlinked economy of mankind,
Their bank, industrial center, shopping site
Looking like silent graveyards during night,
Of all the glitter, pomp and show bereft,
With not a single living creature left.

The earth enveloped in despair and gloom
For ev'n a moment's joy will have no room.
Like shipwrecked sailors on an island cast
To live in utter want and often fast,
Millions will wilderness make their abode
To live in travail with a crushing load
Of sorrow, suffering and remitless toil
To build the world anew right from the soil.

I am not writing this to fling a scare,
But if it be an error to lay bare
Alarming truths of vital moment for
The whole of mankind at this crucial hour,
Of such importance on them does depend
Whether the race will live or come to end,
I must plead guilty now, and press the plea
That judgment should rest with the progeny,
Which will be better able to decide
How exigent it was to stop the tide,
That sweeping o'er the earth had washed away
Resistance to this Evil of the day.

If after all the experience gained by us,
And all our knowledge we do not discuss,
And take more seriously the aftermath
Of such a pitfall, looming in our path,
Which shall not only shatter all our bones,
But turn our homesteads into sand and stones,
It means that either we are gripped by sloth,
And would burn rather than turn, like a moth,
From bright ambitious dreams that hold us fast
And draw us headfirst to a holocaust;
Or, like birds fascinated by a snake,
We lie immobile leaving things to take
Their course, until the Bomb makes us its prey,
While we wait hypnotized the fatal day.

Or we are not convinced that such war can
Come to destroy the whole dream world of man,
And hope that luck or prudence will prevail
To bar the use of this infernal hail,
Or that no one is of sense so bereft
To fight a war in which no one is left.

But who can say what irreparable harm
Will follow when this foul, Satanic arm,
Like hundreds of volcanoes, bursts to pour
A vitriolic ash on every shore,
Causing climatic rigors never met,
The harmony of nature to upset.

The havoc caused is sure to take a shape
As awful as the door of hell agape,
Would show to horror-stricken mortal sight,
To freeze the marrow with benumbing fright,
As shrieking, groaning wretches twist and writhe
In dreadful postures, and in thick gasps breathe
Corrosive fumes, laid on a scorching bed,
Under a ceiling of fire overhead,
With cold sweat streaming down the anguished face,
While red-hot pins tear off flesh from its place,
No water to assuage the parching thirst
Or cool the burning fever, growing worse.

For days and weeks to endure infernal pain
Until delirium grips the tortured brain,
And soothing death the torment comes to ease,
When their contortions and convulsions cease,
Beyond the reach of aid, as no one near
Is left alive a helping hand to bear.

With such a prospect and two bloody wars
Before our eyes, what mental twist debars
The elite from seeing that a bloodier third,
With nuclear weapons, plunging all the world
Into a blazing hell-fire, to our shame,
Might be fought leaving mankind broke and lame,
So dreadfully mangled that it would take an age
To patch the damage done by nuclear rage?

Why do we disbelieve or disregard
The words of those who put us on our guard
Against a possibility that can be
A stark reality for you and me,
Or all of us, demanding from our part
Preventive efforts done with all our heart?

Look at the people passing unconcerned,
Absorbed deep in what they have lost or earned,
And mark there is no serious talk about
What should, indeed, fill them with fear and doubt:
About the alarming state the world is in
Where our existence hangs upon the spin
Of change to cause the initial clash that can,
In but a day effect the wreck of man,
And then no one can tell what will befall
Or who will suffer-others or us all.

There must be some defect beyond our ken
Which, yet unnoticed by the world of men,
Has caused a partial torpor of the sense
Of safety, made this instinct slack and dense,
Has in some way eclipsed the Orb of Light,
The Source of all our sense of wrong and right,
Has somehow caused obstruction in the Ray,
Which keeps the evil threatening us at bay,
And like the commonly met morbid streak,
In those towards drink or vice who are weak,
Is not perceptive of the nuclear threat,
Although to other hazards most alert.

Is there not something morbid in this calm,
This sense of safety, this pretense and sham,
That keeps us tongue-tied and somehow contrives
To make us dead to a danger to our lives?
Which having now become a usual trait
Keeps us from knowing our abnormal state?
Keeps us from knowing e'en that there is ground
For worry, for which some cure must be found?
While some deceived by hope that Heaven will save
The world somehow, ignore the yawning grave,
Again forgetting that Celestial Laws
Are always just in the events they cause.

There might come heavier blows that will not spare
Anyone but will be for all to share;
For those who tamely follow a wrong lead
Cannot escape the guilt of evil deed.
The more our weapons gain in power and range
The more the urgency that we should change.

When heaven intends, to suit the Cosmic Plan,
To change unhealthy habits formed by man,
To humble and deflate his bloated head,
Or cleanse the poison skeptic thought has spread;
In short, when there occurs a need for change,
A tangled thread of life to rearrange,
Then ere the evil grows beyond repair
To cure it, as a vacuum in the air,
When it exceeds a certain point, entails
From denser regions furious storms and gales;
Terrestrial life creates a mental storm
A faulty social order to reform.

See how a raging tempest sweeps away
The dust and dirt and throws in disarray
One whole affected region, bringing down,
Like match-sticks, giant trees in many a town
And country, smashing doors and window panes,
And hurling down the roofs in streets and lanes,
Causing a pandemonium while men dash
For shelter, midst the deafening din and crash
Of falling debris and the thundering roar
Of wind, in fury rising more and more,
Until with fitful gusts its rage abates,
When men and things resume their normal states.

Does not the same befall when dreadful storms
Of riot and revolution change the forms
Of governments and social systems which
In man's progressive movement cause some hitch?

Did not the same befall whene'er the rage
Of great historic wars in any age
Hit kingdoms and world empires, like a blast,
Their sovereignty and boundaries to recast?
Did not then millions with their precious lives
Remove impediments which, with the gyves
Of wealth and power, enchained a massive part
Of mankind, ruling it with as much art
As is displayed now by some nations which
In man's advancement cause again a hitch,
And so, as has befallen oft before,
The same dread process may recur once more;
This time with more destructive weapons than
Those used before by power-besotten man?

Alas, our lust for power or wealth untold
Should so befool us and our thinking mold
That, with our brilliant intellectual rise,
We should think that the measures we devise
Or contemplate, untrue to man and God,
As diplomatic trick, pretense or fraud,
Can e'er succeed against the Almighty Plan
Of Heaven aimed at the unity of man.

Can we arrest the movement of the earth,
Or shorten by an inch its mighty girth,
Prevent the sun from rising in the east,
Or cool its fiery ardor in the least,
Or hold a while an atom from its course
Without encountering its explosive force?

If not, what lack of sense in us denies
The knowledge that when nought under the skies
Can flout the laws of nature or its might
Resist, can puny man put up a fight,
By mean resort to sneaking trick and ruse,
Against a measure Heaven decides to use?
So either nature is unjust and blind,
Or there is some unfathomed Law behind
Our present fatal choice to act like this,
And has a meaning which today we miss,
But must become apparent at its time
To strengthen mortal faith in Laws Sublime;
And if it be not so, then Faith should cease
And leave men free to frolic as they please.

For if you hold belief in God, can He
Be so impotent or leave men so free
That they kill millions, as one kills a louse,
While He looks timidly on, like a mouse?
An infantile belief that cannot stand
The probe of reason or the keen demand
Of stern morality, for it would mean
That Satan is the master, and we lean
On God, as slaves to false beliefs, and not
Because He is the ruler of our lot.

I know my these few words will not avail
Against the summoned force of Doom's assault,
But hoping better counsels might prevail
For Heaven's mercy soon to mend our fault;
I, in obedience to an Inner Voice,
Coming from regions deeper than the mind,
Beyond the sphere of mortal will and choice,
Make this submission to alert mankind
That we have passed beyond the safety line
In our immoderate thirst for wealth and might,
Which is against Creation's Grand Design,
And forces Nature too to set us right.

Past all defenses, past all ramparts built
At such enormous cost as could suffice
To keep earth's starving millions from the guilt
Of crimes committed for a morsel twice
A day, the infernal engines, as if wrought
By nature for requite through mortal hands,
Shall spread destruction, poison, death and rot
Among the people of contending lands.

And this to such a staggering extent
That future men shall shudder at the thought,
And centuries of time and labor spent
On pomp and vanity shall come to naught.
The awe-struck world shall shiver, numb with fright,
Deprived of feeling, movement, joy and mirth,
As monstrous globes of fire site after site,
Teeming with human crowds, wipe off the earth.

Thus shall be fought, to purge the poisoned world
Of sin, a bloody Mahabharata*,
With hellish arms by human agents hurled,
To re-establish faith in Moral Law.

Conclusion

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.

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!

Gopi Krishna – The Shape of Events to Come

www.goptikrishna.net

Please also watch the following pictures:

http://inmotion.magnumphotos.com/essay/chernobyl

http://www.xs4all.nl/~stgvisie/VISIE/extremedeformities.html

http://www.mindfully.org/Nucs/2003/DU-Baby2003.htm