Arjava's Moon-Script (Click for RY Deshpande's & Sri Aurobindo's comments.)

Now all nearer things are vanished;
Wonted shapes leave empty air:
Thankfully I find me banished
From the worldly thoroughfare.

Garishness the moon-thrill plunders:
Hosting billows glide to shore—
Waves that break in phantom thunders,
Sands which feel no footprint-score.

Drowsy pinions whitely winging
Smoulder dimly past the strand,
Visionary trance-light bringing
From some strange remote land.

Past the “me” and past the “other”
Let the questant farer speed,
Wilder grow the foamway smother,
More weird the moon-script he must read.

8 March 1936