Linda's Literary Home

Tag: Paramahansa Yogananda

  • Emily Dickinson’s “To lose one’s faith – surpass” 

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “To lose one’s faith – surpass” 

    Emily Dickinson’s “To lose one’s faith – surpass” reveals the speaker’s vision of faith as a singular inward inheritance whose loss exceeds material loss.

    Introduction and Text of “To lose one’s faith – surpass”

    Emily Dickinson’s “To lose one’s faith – surpass” is an American-Innovative lyric featuring the Dickinsonian plethora of dashes, while remaining unrimed. The speaker contrasts spiritual loss with material loss.

    The tone remains steady and reflective, allowing meaning to unfold through simple comparative statements rather than extended argument or narrative expansion.  The speaker frames faith as something more interior than property or inheritance. The poem moves between material imagery and inward consequence.

    To lose one’s faith – surpass –

    To lose one’s faith – surpass –
    The loss of an Estate –
    Because Estates can be
    Replenished – faith cannot –

    Inherited with Life –
    Belief – but once – can be –
    Annihilate a single clause –
    And Being’s – Beggary –

    Commentary on “To lose one’s faith – surpass”

    The speaker presents faith as an inner possession whose loss creates a deeper condition than material ruin. The poem moves toward inward deprivation rather than external loss.

    First Stanza: Cannot Get Back

    To lose one’s faith – surpass –
    The loss of an Estate –
    Because Estates can be
    Replenished – faith cannot –

    The speaker begins with a quiet but firm comparison between faith and material inheritance. An estate represents something large, structured, and recoverable in worldly terms.

    The speaker completes the contrast by establishing permanence in loss. An estate may return through circumstance or restoration, but faith does not follow that pattern of recovery.

    The tone remains calm, almost observational, as if the speaker is stating a condition of reality rather than offering persuasion or argument. The word “surpass” suggests that spiritual loss rises above material loss in seriousness. The speaker sets a hierarchy of inward and outward value.

    The estate functions as a symbol of continuity in earthly life, where loss can be repaired through time, labor, or inheritance. Faith, however, is treated as singular and non-repeatable. Once absent, it does not return in the same inward form.

    The speaker’s phrasing suggests a quiet finality, where spiritual absence becomes a lasting condition rather than a temporary state.  The simplicity of diction reinforces the seriousness of the claim, allowing the idea to feel inevitable rather than debated.

    In earlier commentaries on Dickinsonian poems, I have discussed Dickinson’s creating  metaphysical weight through plain comparison rather than rhetorical expansion.  The speaker’s structure mirrors this method, placing two forms of loss side by side until their difference becomes unavoidable.

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that inward perception of spiritual reality requires sustained alignment, and when that alignment is broken, outer substitutes cannot fully replace it, as taught.

    The speaker’s comparison therefore moves beyond economics into inward life itself, where restoration is not guaranteed.  The stanza closes with a sense of irreversible distinction between what can be regained and what cannot.

    Second Stanza: You, too, maybe!

    Inherited with Life –
    Belief – but once – can be –
    Annihilate a single clause –
    And Being’s – Beggary –

    The speaker shifts toward origin, suggesting that belief is not merely learned but carried within life itself as an initial endowment.  The phrase “but once” introduces a sense of singularity, as if belief arrives in a form that does not naturally duplicate.

    The speaker turns language itself into a structure of being. A disruption in understanding is presented as capable of total inward collapse.  The “single clause” suggests that even a small fracture in comprehension can affect the whole structure of belief.

    The tone remains restrained, yet the implication is severe, as though identity depends upon coherence of inward language.  The speaker concludes with a stark image of existential deprivation. “Beggary” becomes a condition of being rather than a social state.

    The loss described is not partial but total in inward effect, where existence continues but without spiritual fullness.  The simplicity of the final phrase intensifies its meaning, leaving the impression of stripped interior life.

    In other essays, I have noted that Dickinson often compresses entire states of existence into single concluding words that carry structural weight.  Paramahansa Yogananda explains that when inner awareness of divine connection is obscured, life continues outwardly but loses its sustaining inner richness.

    The speaker’s logic suggests that faith is not supplementary but foundational to inward coherence. The poem ends by presenting existence without faith as a condition of essential lack, where being remains but fullness and purpose are withdrawn.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “Going to Heaven!”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “Going to Heaven!”

    The speaker of “Going to Heaven!” muses on the certainty of heaven with equal measures of astonishment and earthly attachment, moving through three stanzas of tender, searching honesty.

    Introduction and Text of “Going to Heaven!”

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “Going to Heaven!” addresses an unnamed listener, confessing her astonishment at heaven’s inevitability while simultaneously expressing a glad reluctance to leave the Earth behind.

    On the literal level, the poem is a musing on what the speaker does and does not know about dying and what follows. She knows heaven is coming; she does not know when or how, and that gap between certainty and comprehension is the poem’s central drama. 

    On my literary website, Linda’s Literary Home, I have argued that the concept of immortality was one of Dickinson’s deepest preoccupations throughout her creative life, a question she returned to with unfailing curiosity and spiritual seriousness.

    The poem moves stanza by stanza from bewilderment, to communal longing, to a final and deeply personal grief held alongside gladness. The speaker never resolves the tension between loving the Earth and accepting heaven; she simply holds both, honestly and without apology. That honesty is what gives the poem its enduring emotional power.

    Going to Heaven!

    I don’t know when –
    Pray do not ask me how!
    Indeed I’m too astonished
    To think of answering you!
    Going to Heaven!
    How dim it sounds!
    And yet it will be done
    As sure as flocks go home at night
    Unto the Shepherd’s arm!

    Perhaps you’re going too!
    Who knows?
    If you should get there first
    Save just a little space for me
    Close to the two I lost –
    The smallest “Robe” will fit me
    And just a bit of “Crown” –
    For you know we do not mind our dress
    When we are going home –

    I’m glad I don’t believe it
    For it would stop my breath –
    And I’d like to look a little more
    At such a curious Earth!
    I’m glad they did believe it
    Whom I have never found
    Since the mighty Autumn afternoon
    I left them in the ground.

    Commentary on “Going to Heaven!”

    The speaker’s musing enacts a spiritual journey moving from bewilderment through communal longing to grief and gladness held together in the same breath. Each stanza adds a new layer to the speaker’s understanding of what heaven means and what it will cost her.

    First Stanza: What I Do Not Know

    I don’t know when –
    Pray do not ask me how!
    Indeed I’m too astonished
    To think of answering you!
    Going to Heaven!
    How dim it sounds!
    And yet it will be done
    As sure as flocks go home at night
    Unto the Shepherd’s arm!

    The speaker opens by announcing plainly that she cannot answer her listener’s questions about when or how she will go to heaven, not because she doubts it, but because the fact of it leaves her too astonished to speak. 

    The exclamation “Going to Heaven!” is less a cry of joy than a gasp of disbelief that such a thing should be true. The speaker is not refusing to answer; she is genuinely overwhelmed.

    She then makes a striking admission: heaven “sounds” dim to her, meaning the word itself feels thin and inadequate against the magnitude of what it names. This insight spring from a characteristically Dickinsonian observation—the language of religion, worn smooth by repetition, fails to convey the actual force of the reality it describes. The speaker senses the reality is immense; she simply cannot yet grasp it.

    Yet the stanza closes in warmth and confidence, comparing the soul’s going to heaven to flocks returning to the shepherd’s arm at nightfall. Paramahansa Yogananda teaches, in his “On Understanding Death and Loss,” that death is not a catastrophe but a natural passage of the soul into greater freedom and divine awareness. 

    The speaker’s shepherd simile expresses exactly that understanding: going home is the soul’s most natural motion, as inevitable and as gentle as a lamb finding its shepherd at dusk.

    Second Stanza: You, too, maybe!

    Perhaps you’re going too!
    Who knows?
    If you should get there first
    Save just a little space for me
    Close to the two I lost –
    The smallest “Robe” will fit me
    And just a bit of “Crown” –
    For you know we do not mind our dress
    When we are going home –

    The speaker now turns to her listener with sudden warmth, wondering aloud whether that person, too, may be going to heaven. “Who knows?” she asks—a phrase of genuine spiritual humility, acknowledging that she cannot determine the soul’s schedule, her own or anyone else’s. The tone shifts from private astonishment to something communal and tender.

    She then makes her most touching request: that a small space be saved for her near “the two I lost.” The term “two” points to specific, beloved persons already departed, whose identity the speaker keeps private but whose absence she carries openly. 

    The capitalized “Robe” and “Crown” gently deflate the grandeur traditionally associated with heavenly reward; the speaker asks for the smallest of each, expressing a humility that is as genuine as it is quietly playful.

    The stanza closes by returning to the phrase “going home,” linking it directly to the shepherd simile of the first stanza and reinforcing the poem’s central conviction that death is not exile but return. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda’s  teachings explain that the soul is a perfect reflection of God’s consciousness and that its passage beyond the physical plane is a homecoming to its Eternal Source. 

    The speaker’s easy dismissal of heavenly dress—“we do not mind our dress / When we are going home”—reflects that same priority: the reunion matters infinitely more than the clothing.

    Third Stanza: Glad for not Believing

    I’m glad I don’t believe it
    For it would stop my breath –
    And I’d like to look a little more
    At such a curious Earth!
    I’m glad they did believe it
    Whom I have never found
    Since the mighty Autumn afternoon
    I left them in the ground.

    The speaker now delivers the poem’s most surprising statement: she is glad she does not yet fully believe in her going to heaven, because that belief, fully realized, would stop her breath and take her from “such a curious Earth.” 

    She is not denying heaven; she is confessing that she still loves the Earth too much to be entirely ready to leave it. On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have discussed Dickinson’s deep attentiveness to the natural world alongside her spiritual curiosity as a parallel devotion, neither canceling out the other.

    The speaker then turns her gladness in a new direction: she is glad that “they did believe it”—those she has not seen since a mighty autumn afternoon when she left them in the ground. 

    That single phrase, “left them in the ground,” is the poem’s most direct and devastating moment, stripping away all metaphor to name the plain fact of burial. Their belief in heaven was their comfort in dying, and she honors it with a gladness that is inseparable from grief.

    Paramahansa Yogananda teaches that souls who have departed dwell in expanded freedom and love, and that the bonds of deep spiritual friendship are not broken by death but simply suspended until reunion. 

    The speaker closes the poem holding two kinds of gladness at once —gladness to remain a little longer on the curious Earth, and gladness that those she loved and buried believed in the heaven toward which she, too, is inexorably going.

  • Paramahansa Yogananda’s “My Krishna Is Blue”

    Image: Bhagavan Krishna Self-Realization Fellowship https://bookstore.yogananda-srf.org/product/bhagavan-krishna-altar-photo-color/
    Image: Bhagavan Krishna – Self-Realization Fellowship

    Paramahansa Yogananda’s “My Krishna Is Blue”

    Paramahansa Yogananda’s “My Krishna Is Blue” reveals the chanter’s yearning for union with Krishna consciousness. He is envisioning a state beyond ordinary awareness, where the soul rises to the highest level of divine realization—self-realization.

    Introduction and Text of “My Krishna Is Blue”

    Paramahansa Yogananda’s “My Krishna Is Blue” is a devotional chant consisting of three movements. Through chant repetition and simplicity, the chanter dramatizes his profound love for Krishna and his longing to dwell perpetually in the Divine Presence.

    The chant progresses from recognition to aspiration and finally to spiritual identification. The chanter first notices a correspondence between Krishna and the blue tamal tree, then expresses a desire to ascend to its highest branch, and finally longs to die where Krishna sat.

    On the literal level, the chanter appears to be praising a tree associated with Krishna. On the mystical level, however, the imagery points beyond physical nature toward the soul’s desire to attain the exalted consciousness embodied by Krishna.

    My Krishna Is Blue

    My Krishna is blue;
    the tamal tree is blue.
    My Krishna is blue;
    The tamal tree is blue.
    So I do love thee, tamal tree!
    So I do love thee, my tamal tree!

    And when I die, O Mother!
    Do put me high
    On a branch of the tamal tree,
    On a branch of the tamal tree.

    Where Krishna sat, there I would die,
    Where Krishna sat, there I would die,
    On a branch of the tamal tree,
    On a branch of the tamal tree.

    Commentary on “My Krishna Is Blue”

    Paramahansa Yogananda’s “My Krishna Is Blue” reveals the soul’s devotion to the Divine Beloved. The chanter’s simple chant also expresses a profound spiritual aspiration toward God-union.

    First Movement:  “My Krishna is blue”

    My Krishna is blue;
    the tamal tree is blue.
    My Krishna is blue;
    The tamal tree is blue.
    So I do love thee, tamal tree!
    So I do love thee, my tamal tree!

    The chanter begins by establishing an identity between Krishna and the tamal tree. Both are described as blue, and that shared quality causes the chanter to regard the tree with affection and reverence.

    The repetition carries the force of devotional musing rather than ordinary description. The chanter seems to be dwelling lovingly upon a spiritual correspondence that links the visible object with the Divine Reality symbolized by Krishna.

    Because Krishna and the tamal tree share the same color, the tree becomes more than a botanical object. It functions as an emblem of Krishna consciousness and therefore deserves the chanter’s devotion.

    The declaration—“So I do love thee, tamal tree!”—reveals that the chanter’s love for the tree derives from its association with Krishna. The affection is not directed toward matter but toward the divine presence reflected through matter.

    The repeated address, “my tamal tree,” adds intimacy to the relationship. The chanter regards the tree as a sacred possession because it serves as a reminder of the beloved Lord.

    Paramahansa Yogananda frequently emphasizes perceiving God’s presence throughout creation. Paramahansa Yogananda explains that divine consciousness may be perceived behind all forms, and the chanter’s vision reflects that spiritual perception.

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have discussed how poets often employ physical imagery to suggest metaphysical realities. The chanter similarly employs the visible tamal tree as a symbol pointing toward an invisible spiritual state.

    The stanza therefore moves beyond literal description. Through the repeated equation of Krishna and the blue tamal tree, the chanter transforms a natural image into a symbol of divine consciousness.

    Second Movement: “And when I die, O Mother!”

    And when I die, O Mother!
    Do put me high
    On a branch of the tamal tree,
    On a branch of the tamal tree.

    The second stanza shifts from recognition to aspiration. Having established the sacred significance of the tamal tree, the chanter now expresses a fervent desire regarding his own destiny.

    The address to “Mother” adds emotional intensity, referring to the Divine Mother. The invocation conveys humility and dependence before a higher power. At first glance, the request appears unusual. The chanter asks to be placed “high” upon a branch of the tamal tree rather than buried or laid to rest in some conventional manner.

    The word “high” becomes the stanza’s crucial term. The chanter does not merely seek proximity to the tree; he desires elevation within it.  Such elevation suggests ascent rather than location.  The imagery points toward a higher level of consciousness rather than a merely physical position.

    The branch functions as a metaphorical rather than literal destination.  To imagine a devotee sincerely wishing to have his body suspended in a tree would diminish the spiritual seriousness of the chant. Instead, the high branch symbolizes the summit of awareness. The chanter longs to rise to the highest attainable state of realization.

    Paramahansa Yogananda repeatedly teaches that human consciousness may ascend from body-awareness to soul-awareness through spiritual discipline. The chanter’s longing for the highest branch harmonizes with that teaching of spiritual ascent.

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have often observed that poetry rarely states its deepest meanings directly.  Through symbol and suggestion, poets allow intuition to perceive realities that ordinary language cannot adequately express.  Thus the high branch becomes an image of supreme spiritual attainment.  The chanter prays not for physical elevation but for the soul’s ascent into divine consciousness.

    Third Movement: “Where Krishna sat, there I would die”

    Where Krishna sat, there I would die,
    Where Krishna sat, there I would die,
    On a branch of the tamal tree,
    On a branch of the tamal tree.

    The final stanza reveals the chanter’s ultimate desire. He wishes to die precisely where Krishna sat.  The statement deepens the symbolic significance of the branch. It is not merely high; it is the place occupied by Krishna.  If Krishna represents perfected divine consciousness, then the branch symbolizes the level of realization attained by that consciousness. The chanter longs to occupy the same spiritual station.

    The repeated line intensifies the devotional yearning. The chanter does not seek worldly rewards, intellectual accomplishment, or heavenly pleasures.  Instead, he desires complete identification with Krishna. The aspiration is one of union rather than admiration from a distance.

    The word “die” also carries spiritual significance. Mystical literature frequently employs death as a symbol for the dissolution of ego-consciousness.The chanter therefore longs for the extinction of the limited self in the very state inhabited by Krishna. Such a death would not signify annihilation but fulfillment.

    Paramahansa Yogananda teaches that the soul’s highest goal is realization of its unity with Spirit. The chanter’s desire to die where Krishna sat reflects precisely such a yearning for God-union.  The repeated return to the tamal tree completes the chant’s symbolic design. What began as a blue tree associated with Krishna culminates as a metaphor for the highest spiritual center.

    The chant’s simplicity is permeated with remarkable depth. Through the image of a blue tamal tree and its highest branch, the chanter dramatizes the soul’s longing to rise into Krishna consciousness and experience the liberating realization of divine union.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “There’s a certain Slant of light”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “There’s a certain Slant of light”

    Dickinson closely observed and investigated her surroundings; she also keenly examined her own feelings then dramatized those feelings in poems.  In “There’s a certain Slant of light,” her speaker is infusing melancholy into her perception of light streaming through a window on a winter afternoon.

    Introduction with Text of “There’s a certain Slant of light”

    Emily Dickinson developed the habit of closely observing as she investigated her surroundings.  The poet then keenly examined and mused upon her own feelings, finally dramatizing those feelings in poems.

    The poet created this speaker in “There’s a certain Slant of light” to reveal a mood of slight melancholy as she muses on a shaft of light streaming in through her window on a winter afternoon.  

    That streaming light through the window seems to tip and tilt, that is, “slant,” in a way that causes the speaker to undergo that sense of melancholy, which is no ordinary gloom but brings with it a spiritual aspect. 

    The speaker creates a little drama based on her intense feeling of spiritual intuition which has been motivated by a simple “Slant of light” streaming in through the window on a cold, winter afternoon.

    There’s a certain Slant of light

    There’s a certain Slant of light,
    Winter Afternoons –
    That oppresses, like the Heft
    Of Cathedral Tunes –

    Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –
    We can find no scar,
    But internal difference,
    Where the Meanings, are –

    None may teach it – Any –
    ‘Tis the Seal Despair –
    An imperial affliction
    Sent us of the air –

    When it comes, the Landscape listens –
    Shadows – hold their breath –
    When it goes, ’tis like the Distance
    On the look of Death –

    Reading of “There’s a certain Slant of light” 

    Commentary on “There’s a certain Slant of light”

    A simple viewing of a shaft of light streaming into the room on a winter day engenders in this speaker a melancholy prompting this little drama.  The spiritual experience thus is rendered in paradox—the ultimate literary device for communicating the ineffable.

    First Stanza:  The Oppression of Tilting Light

    There’s a certain Slant of light,
    Winter Afternoons –
    That oppresses, like the Heft
    Of Cathedral Tunes –

    The speaker begins the drama by asserting that on certain winter afternoons the light shining in through her window comes in at a “certain Slant” and that tilting light “oppresses” her in the way the heavy tones of sacred chants might do. Although light is weightless, to the speaker in this particular mood, it seems heavy enough to oppress her into melancholy.

    A paradox results from the speaker finding the “light” to be as heavy as church music.  Music experienced in church is meant to uplift, not weigh one down.  If something that is meant to uplift does the opposite, then one has to explore the reasons for such oppression.  Why would music that ordinarily produces a spiritual upliftment become an instrument of oppression—that is, something that is heavy?

    Second Stanza:  The Human Craving for Meaning

    Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –
    We can find no scar,
    But internal difference,
    Where the Meanings, are –

    The deeply inspiring sound of “Cathedral Tunes” brings the speaker to a place of “Heavenly Hurt.”  Again, she paradoxically describes her experience:  Heaven is a spiritual place where there is no hurt, no pain, no distress, no oppression—only bliss. 

    The speaker confirms as much as she avers that this “hurt” never results in a “scar.”  And it also leaves no physical mark such as scar because this melancholy is inside of the speaker; it is her soul that has engaged with this music, this light, that has caused this spiritual experience.

    The speaker employs the term, “Meaning”—all human beings on all levels of awareness crave meaning in their lives, and the speaker has become aware of the meaning of an inner life that is more important than the corporeal.  True meaning come from the soul not from the body that changes and dies, nor from the mind that knows nothing but change.

    Third Stanza:  Soul Meaning

    None may teach it – Any –
    ‘Tis the Seal Despair –
    An imperial affliction
    Sent us of the air –

    The speaker then affirms that one cannot be taught this kind of soul meaning. The mystical state of the desire for meaning comes on one unbidden, as casually as taking a breath. “Despair” of the material world often leads one to ask the question, is this all there is to life?

    But the individual becomes a seeker after she begins to entertain such questions.  Divine cravings may be prompted by any outward experience such as light tilting in through a window, but those cravings for spiritual reality can be satisfied only through soul-union, which is Divine Awareness.  The melancholy of spiritual desire is a first step to that Ultimate Awareness.

    Fourth Stanza:  The Nature of Reality

    When it comes, the Landscape listens –
    Shadows – hold their breath –
    When it goes, ’tis like the Distance
    On the look of Death – 

    After the strong spiritual desire for meaning, that is, comprehending the nature of Reality approaches the sensibility of the individual, that individual wished to cease the flux of all phenomena in order to listen—”be still and know that I am God” (KJV, Psalm 46:10).

    This speaker creates her drama by asserting that “Shadows  – hold their breath.”  Shadows holding their breath suggests a depth of quietness that is nearly unfathomable.  A miraculous awareness engulfs the speaker.

    The speaker has discovered that this “heavenly hurt,” this spiritual melancholy, transforms itself into the light of understanding.  Death loses its grip and meaning after such a level of awareness is achieved, no longer grasping the heart and mind of the individual.  

    After death has become merely a distant force, the spiritual aspirant sees more clearly all other forces that operate in her sphere.  The speaker has thus reached that inner Goal.  Death is beaten and given its place to Awareness. 

    The Science and Symbolism of Light

    That a simple “Slant of light” should engender a deep mystic state of awareness in this speaker is quite apt.  Regarding the nature of light, in his spiritual classic, Autobiography of a Yogi [1], Paramahansa Yogananda has explained that the material universe is composed of light.  Many modern discoveries have revealed to humanity that the cosmos is composed of various expressions of one power—light—guided by Divine Intelligence.

    Paramahansa Yogananda has also explained that only differing rates of vibration account for the differing forms that exist throughout the cosmos:

    Modern science has shown that everything in the universe is composed of energy (light), and that the apparent differentiation between solids, liquids, gases, sound, and light is merely a difference in their vibratory rates.

    Also in his autobiography, Paramahansa Yogananda has explained in detail the nature of light, comparing it to other “waves”:

    Among the trillion mysteries of the cosmos, the most phenomenal is light. Unlike sound waves, whose transmission requires air or other material media, light waves pass freely through the vacuum of interstellar space. Even the hypothetical ether, held as the interplanetary medium of light in the undulatory theory, may be discarded on the Einsteinian grounds that the geometrical properties of space render unnecessary a theory of ether. Under either hypothesis, light remains the most subtle, the freest from material dependence, of any natural manifestation.

    The individual who has achieved the realization that “the essence of creation is light” is thus capable of operating the law of miracles.  The term miracle simply applies to any phenomenon whose operation science [2] has yet to discover.  

    What the soul knows through intuition will always be running miles and years ahead of what physical science [3] knows because physical science can explore and examine only the created cosmos not the Creator of that cosmos.  The soul, however, being a spark of the Creator, knows all that the Creator knows—either in fact or in potential.

    Emily Dickinson’s employment of light in this poem thus results from her deep intuitive awareness that light is the building substance of the cosmos.  Therefore, “light” becomes a symbol for that intuition that would continue to guide the poet as she continued to create her  mystical, metaphysical, metaphorical “garden” of poetry.

    Sources

    [1]  Paramahansa Yogananda.  Autobiography of a Yogi.  Self-Realization Fellowship.  Accessed June 3, 2026.
    [2]  Ard Louis.  “Miracles and Science: The Long Shadow of David Hume.”  The BioLogos Foundation.  March 12, 2018.
    [3]  Lisa Zyga.  “Quantum Mysticism: Gone but Not Forgotten.” Phys.org.  June 8, 2009.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul should always stand ajar” 

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul should always stand ajar” 

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul should always stand ajar” reveals the speaker’s profound insight regarding spiritual readiness. The poem highlights the necessity of remaining receptive to divine visitations.

    Introduction and Text of “The Soul should always stand ajar”

    The speaker explores the delicate relationship between human consciousness and the divine presence. Spiritual alertness requires continuous vulnerability and an open heart. This focus informs this brief but deep metaphysical lyric.

    The poem consists of two quatrain stanzas that function as a single movement. Dickinson has created here a speaker, utilizes her characteristic short lines and unconventional capitalization to emphasize inner vigilance. This structure mirrors the soul’s quiet anticipation.

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have discussed many of the aspects that the speakers in Dickinsonian poetry capture in fleeting moments of cosmic awareness.  The speaker creates a drama of inner hospitality.  It encourages readers to prepare for divine communion.

    The Soul should always stand ajar

    The Soul should always stand ajar
    That if the Heaven inquire
    He will not be obliged to wait
    Or shy of troubling Her

    Depart, before the Host have slid
    The Bolt unto the Door –
    To search for the accomplished Guest,
    Her Visitor, no more –

    Commentary on “The Soul should always stand ajar”

    The poem examines the necessity of keeping the consciousness open to celestial encounters. The speaker is guarding against spiritual inertia.

    First Stanza: The Soul’s Expression

    The Soul should always stand ajar
    That if the Heaven inquire
    He will not be obliged to wait
    Or shy of troubling Her

    The speaker commands the inner being to maintain a state of perpetual openness. Using the architectural metaphor of a door left slightly open, readiness is prioritized. The soul must never bar its entrance.

    Divine grace arrives unexpectedly, requiring immediate hospitality from the seeker. The speaker personifies “Heaven” as an inquiring visitor who seeks entry into human consciousness. Receptivity must be instantaneous and completely unhesitating.

    If the door of consciousness is closed, the divine visitor might easily bypass the individual. Paramahansa Yogananda explains that divine realization requires an active, unceasing inner invitation. Receptivity demands consistent spiritual attunement.

    God does not force entry into an unresponsive or distracted mind. The speaker notes that Heaven might feel “shy of troubling” an unready host. Spiritual passivity creates a barrier to grace.

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have discussed the speaker’s preoccupation with the border between the human and divine. The open door represents that threshold. It demands constant, attentive safeguarding.

    This welcoming attitude reflects a deep inner yearning for higher truth. The speaker positions the soul as a waiting servant. Universal consciousness requires an empty, waiting vessel to fill.

    Through quiet musing, the seeker recognizes that divine moments are easily missed. The speaker emphasizes that Heaven will not wait indefinitely for a response. Immediate availability is the supreme virtue.

    The door must remain unlatched despite the distractions of earthly life. The speaker frames this openness as a continuous state of being. True spiritual life demands total, uninterrupted vulnerability.

    Second Stanza: Soul Etiquette

    Depart, before the Host have slid
    The Bolt unto the Door –
    To search for the accomplished Guest,
    Her Visitor, no more –

    The speaker outlines the tragic consequence of a locked inner door. If the human host slides the heavy bolt, the divine visitor departs permanently. Neglect seals the spiritual separation.

    The opportunity for divine communion can be lost through self-absorption. The speaker portrays a single, definitive action of closing the entryway. A bolted door signals a rejection of higher realms.

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that the subtle voice of the Divine is easily drowned out by worldly noise. Quiet inner readiness preserves the sacred connection. Persistent devotion keeps the channel open.

    Once the visitor departs, he will search for that soul “no more.” The speaker delivers a stern warning about the finality of missed grace. Opportunities for awakening are precious and fleeting.

    The “accomplished Guest” represents the highest realization entering the temple of the body. The speaker uses courtly etiquette to describe this sublime visitation. The soul must respect the divine timing.

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have discussed Dickinson’s speakers regarding the value they place on the sudden intrusion of the Infinite. Sliding the bolt represents a failure of trust. Isolation results from spiritual fear.

    Through deep musing on these lines, the reader confronts the urgency of spiritual cultivation. The speaker insists that the host must remain vigilant. Delay brings absolute, lingering spiritual poverty.

    The ultimate tragedy is the permanent withdrawal of the celestial presence. The speaker concludes with an unsettling image of eternal abandonment. Receptivity remains the single defense against darkness.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s distinct connection”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s distinct connection”

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s distinct connection” reveals that immortality is suddenly disclosed through shock and danger experiences.

    Introduction and Text of “The Soul’s distinct connection”

    The speaker presents “The Soul’s distinct connection” as a compressed American-Innovative lyric exploring spiritual perception. Its short lines and slant rimes create a sudden movement from idea to visionary image. The speaker suggests immortality is not gradual knowledge but a flash of direct awareness.

    The speaker frames immortality as something revealed through sudden crisis rather than gradual understanding. The structure anticipates a metaphysical shock that disrupts ordinary perception.

    The Soul’s distinct connection”

    The Soul’s distinct connection
    With immortality
    Is best disclosed by Danger
    Or quick Calamity –

    As Lightning on a Landscape
    Exhibits Sheets of Place –
    Not yet suspected – but for Flash –
    And Click – and Suddenness.

    Commentary on “The Soul’s distinct connection”

    The speaker frames immortality as something revealed through sudden crisis rather than gradual understanding. The structure anticipates a metaphysical shock that disrupts ordinary perception.  Her vision aligns with Paramahansa Yogananda’s teaching that immortality is perceived through sudden inner awakening beyond ordinary awareness.

    First Stanza: The Soul and Immortality

    The Soul’s distinct connection
    With immortality
    Is best disclosed by Danger
    Or quick Calamity –

    In the first stanza, the speaker defines a direct relationship between the soul and immortality, presenting the connection as inherent rather than acquired, embedded within the very structure of consciousness itself. This connection is not continuously visible in ordinary perception, but it becomes evident when danger or sudden calamity interrupts the expected flow of life and thought. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that the soul perceives immortality most clearly when the mind is startled into higher awareness beyond sensory routine, allowing intuitive consciousness to rise above temporal limitation enabling perception of immortality as immediate experience rather than abstract belief grounded in time-bound reasoning.

    In the phrase “Danger / Or quick Calamity,” the speaker emphasizes the disruptive force required to awaken spiritual perception, suggesting that only extreme interruption can break habitual mental patterns. 

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have discussed the fact that Dickinson often uses shock imagery to reveal hidden spiritual states, where disruption becomes a gateway to deeper awareness of the soul. 

    Here the speaker suggests that spiritual awareness emerges when normal continuity is broken, forcing consciousness into a heightened state of perception that resembles awakening from illusion aligning consciousness with a sudden intuitive shift beyond habitual cognition.

    Second Stanza: Soul Suddenness

    As Lightning on a Landscape
    Exhibits Sheets of Place –
    Not yet suspected – but for Flash –
    And Click – and Suddenness.

    In the second stanza, the speaker uses lightning as the central image to describe how spiritual perception suddenly reveals the hidden structure of reality, revealing perception as a sudden cognitive rupture rather than a gradual interpretive process unfolding in time. 

    This revelation is not gradual but instantaneous, exposing “Sheets of Place” across the landscape of experience implying hidden dimensionality within ordinary perception itself. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that divine insight often arrives like a flash of lightning, dissolving mental obscurity and awakening superconscious awareness where consciousness transcends linear reasoning and enters intuitive cognition.

    The speaker suggests that reality is composed of layers that are normally invisible, only becoming apparent when perception is abruptly illuminated suggesting that ordinary awareness conceals deeper structures until disrupted by sudden insight. 

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have noted that Dickinson compresses vast metaphysical ideas into brief, electric imagery that mimics sudden spiritual awakening where brevity intensifies metaphysical meaning through concentrated symbolic expression that emphasizes non-linear cognition characteristic of mystical experience. 

    This structure mirrors mystical experience, where understanding arrives all at once rather than through linear reasoning reinforcing the immediacy of perception as a sudden cognitive awakening beyond temporal sequence, dissolving fragmentation into unified awareness that transcends sensory division aligning sensory faculties into a single integrated perception of truth.

    The imagery of flash and click emphasizes immediacy, suggesting a sudden recognition of truth that cannot be delayed or extended over time emphasizing that spiritual understanding arrives as a decisive moment rather than gradual accumulation. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that when consciousness rises above sensory limitation, truth is perceived as a single unified moment of clarity marking transformation from illusion to awakened recognition within consciousness. 

    The speaker frames this experience as both visual and auditory, merging perception into one unified spiritual event where poetic compression mirrors expanded metaphysical insight through condensed language.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul unto itself”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul unto itself”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul unto itself” dramatizes the mysterious power of the individual soul to function either as humanity’s greatest ally or its fiercest betrayer.

    Introduction and Text of “The Soul unto itself”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul unto itself” features the poet’s characteristic minimalist style, employing brief lines, slant rime, and startling metaphysical assertions. The speaker contemplates the dual nature of the soul.

    She recognizes that the inner self may serve as a majestic companion or as a painful source of suffering.  The poem’s two quatrains move from the soul’s conflicting capacities to its ultimate sovereignty. 

    The first stanza reveals the soul’s ability either to comfort or torment itself, while the second stanza advances the spiritual truth that the soul ultimately answers only to its own Divine Authority.

    As discussed in earlier commentaries on Dickinson poems at my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, Dickinson’s speakers often muse upon mystical realities that transcend material existence. 

    The poet’s speakers repeatedly suggest an intuitive understanding of spiritual truths resembling teachings articulated by Paramahansa Yogananda, who explains that “Self-realization is the knowing—in body, mind, and soul—that we are one with the omnipresence of God.”

    The Soul unto itself

    The Soul unto itself
    Is an imperial friend –
    Or the most agonizing Spy –
    An Enemy – could send –

    Secure against its own –
    No treason it can fear –
    Itself – its Sovereign – of itself
    The Soul should stand in Awe –

    Commentary on “The Soul unto itself”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul unto itself” portrays the soul as both ruler and witness, capable of elevating or devastating human consciousness.

    First Stanza: The Soul’s Friend

    The Soul unto itself
    Is an imperial friend –
    Or the most agonizing Spy –
    An Enemy – could send –

    The speaker immediately asserts that the soul possesses immense authority and influence over human experience. By describing the soul as “an imperial friend,” the speaker assigns regal stature to the inner self, suggesting majesty, dignity, and unwavering companionship.

    The term “imperial” enlarges the soul’s status beyond ordinary friendship. The speaker implies that no worldly companion can equal the soul’s intimate knowledge of the individual mind and heart.

    Yet the speaker quickly pivots from comfort to anguish. The same soul capable of friendship may also become “the most agonizing Spy,” a phrase that transforms inward awareness into relentless surveillance.

    A spy observes secretly and reports faithfully, and thus the speaker recognizes that conscience cannot be deceived. Human beings may conceal motives from society, but the soul witnesses every thought, emotion, and action.

    The speaker’s characterization is similar to Paramahansa Yogananda’s teaching that “The soul is the silent witness.” The Dickinsonian speaker appears keenly aware that the inward self silently records all human conduct, whether noble or shameful.

    The phrase “An Enemy – could send –” intensifies the drama by implying that no external foe can equal the suffering generated by one’s own disturbed consciousness. External enemies may wound the body or reputation, but the troubled soul torments continually from within.

    The speaker therefore presents the soul as the central determining force in human life. Peace or misery originates not primarily from outer conditions but from the soul’s relationship with itself.

    Such musing parallels observations from my discussions of Dickinson’s mystical intuition atmy literary website,Linda’s Literary Home, where Dickinson’s speakers repeatedly probe the unseen dimensions of consciousness. The speaker of this poem demonstrates that same fascination with the hidden operations of the interior life.

    This stanza also reveals Dickinson’s remarkable compression or minimalism. In only four lines, the speaker constructs a complete psychological and spiritual drama in which the soul occupies simultaneously the positions of monarch, companion, observer, and adversary.

    Second Stanza: Soul Power

    Secure against its own –
    No treason it can fear –
    Itself – its Sovereign – of itself
    The Soul should stand in Awe –

    In the second stanza, the speaker shifts from conflict to authority. Once the soul recognizes its own sovereignty, it becomes “Secure against its own,” because genuine spiritual realization eliminates inner division.

    The speaker then declares that the soul can fear “No treason.” Treason signifies betrayal against rightful authority, yet nothing external can overthrow the soul that understands its divine origin and independence.

    The speaker’s declaration echoes Paramahansa Yogananda’s insistence that individuals should not identify merely with the physical body or passing emotions. The great Guru teaches, “Do not think of yourself as the body, but as the joyous consciousness and immortal life behind it.” Dickinson’s speaker likewise urges recognition of the soul’s immortal stature.

    The line “Itself – its Sovereign – of itself” offers one of Dickinson’s most concentrated statements regarding spiritual selfhood. The soul governs itself because its deepest authority derives from divine reality rather than from external institutions or social systems.

    The speaker therefore suggests that authentic strength emerges inwardly. Human beings often surrender their peace to public opinion, material hardship, or emotional instability, but the soul possesses a higher center of authority beyond those fleeting disturbances.

    The poem’s final assertion that “The Soul should stand in Awe –” reveals profound reverence for the mystery of consciousness itself. The speaker does not advocate pride or egoism; instead, she recognizes the sacred dimension of the soul.

    That reverential tone harmonizes with Paramahansa Yogananda’s teaching that the soul reflects divine consciousness. He explains, “The universal everything is made of the singular consciousness of God. When a spark of that consciousness is individualized by God, it becomes a soul.” Dickinson’s speaker appears intuitively aware of that same sublime truth.

    The final line leaves the reader contemplating the grandeur hidden within individual consciousness. The soul becomes simultaneously observer, ruler, and sacred presence, worthy not of fear alone but of awe.

    As in many Dickinson poems, the speaker transforms a brief lyric into a profound spiritual riddle. Beneath the compressed language lies a vast contemplative musing on selfhood, divine authority, and the mysterious power residing within every human soul.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest” dramatizes the soul’s complete fulfillment after welcoming the Divine Presence within consciousness.

    Introduction and Text of “The Soul that hath a Guest”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest” features a speaker contemplating the disposition of a soul that has become inwardly united with the Divine Reality. The compressed little lyric contains only two quatrain stanzas, yet the speaker manages to suggest an entire metaphysical philosophy regarding the soul’s preference for spiritual companionship over worldly diversion.

    The poem advances through two balanced, harmonious movements. The first quatrain establishes the soul’s contentment in remaining inwardly absorbed because of the “Diviner Crowd” dwelling within. The second quatrain stanza reveals that spiritual courtesy itself forbids abandoning one’s inward sanctuary while entertaining “The Emperor of Men.”

    This Dickinsonian drama recalls the teachings of the “Father of Yoga in the West” Paramahansa Yogananda, who often taught that communion with the Divine becomes so absorbing that worldly restlessness naturally diminishes. Dickinson’s speaker reveals the same intuition regarding the soul’s preference for inner bliss over outward entertainment.

    The Soul that hath a Guest

    The Soul that hath a Guest 

    Doth seldom go abroad –
    Diviner Crowd at Home –
    Obliterate the need –

    And Courtesy forbid
    A Host’s departure when
    Upon Himself be visiting
    The Emperor of Men –

    Commentary on “The Soul that hath a Guest”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest” portrays the soul’s inward fulfillment after receiving the companionship of the Divine Belovèd.

    First Stanza: God and Solitude

    The Soul that hath a Guest
    Doth seldom go abroad –
    Diviner Crowd at Home –
    Obliterate the need –

    The speaker begins with the remarkable assertion that the soul possessing “a Guest” no longer feels compelled to “go abroad.” The term “abroad” suggests worldly involvement, social distraction, and outward seeking among transient pleasures that can never permanently satisfy the human heart. The soul’s newfound inward richness renders external wandering increasingly unnecessary.

    The identity of the “Guest” gradually emerges through implication rather than direct declaration. Dickinson’s speakers often employ riddling language that hints rather than explains.

    And here the speaker permits the reader to infer that the “Guest” is none other than God or Divine Consciousness Itself. The presence of the “Diviner Crowd at Home” confirms that the soul has become inhabited by spiritual reality greater than ordinary earthly companionship.

    The phrase “Diviner Crowd” possesses a curious and mystical resonance because the speaker refers to a singular “Guest” but then transforms that singularity into a “Crowd.” Such language suggests the infinite qualities of Spirit that accompany divine communion: peace, joy, wisdom, harmony, and intuitive understanding. One divine Presence contains more richness than the multitude of worldly associations.

    The speaker then explains that the “Diviner Crowd” can “Obliterate the need.” The verb “obliterate” demonstrates the completeness of spiritual fulfillment because the soul no longer merely suppresses worldly cravings; instead, those cravings dissolve altogether in the greater attraction of divine companionship.

    The speaker understands that spiritual realization does not operate through deprivation but through replacement of lesser satisfactions with greater bliss.  Paramahansa Yogananda frequently emphasized that the soul’s true happiness arises from inward communion with God rather than dependence upon external entertainments. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda teaches, “When you know God as peace within, you will realize Him as peace existing in the universal harmony of all things without.” Dickinson’s speaker reveals that same calm inward certainty resulting from spiritual companionship.

    The speaker’s little drama also focuses on the same theme that Dickinson explores often because of her fascination with the soul’s hidden life.   Her speakers repeatedly suggest that external society pales beside the soul’s own immense inward kingdom. This speaker likewise demonstrates that once the soul discovers the Divine Reality, ordinary worldly movement loses much of its fascination.

    Second Stanza:  God and Hospitality

    And Courtesy forbid
    A Host’s departure when
    Upon Himself be visiting
    The Emperor of Men –

    The second stanza deepens the speaker’s conceit by employing the metaphor of hospitality. The soul now becomes a “Host,” while the divine Presence remains the honored “Guest.” Because the soul is entertaining such exalted company, ordinary “Courtesy” itself forbids departure from the inward sanctuary.

    The speaker’s use of “Courtesy” lends a delicate social elegance to the spiritual circumstance. Even in worldly etiquette, a gracious host would never abandon an honored visitor. Thus, the soul absorbed in divine awareness naturally remains inwardly attentive because no earthly obligation could surpass the importance of entertaining “The Emperor of Men.”

    The final phrase majestically identifies the Guest’s true stature. The “Emperor of Men” clearly symbolizes God as sovereign over all humanity and creation itself. The speaker therefore implies that once divine consciousness enters the soul’s awareness, all lesser attractions become secondary beside the majesty of that Presence.

    Dickinson’s speaker carefully avoids theological dogma while still conveying unmistakable spiritual intimacy. The poem remains experiential rather than doctrinal because the speaker focuses not upon religious systems but upon the soul’s transformed condition after inwardly realizing divine companionship. Such subtlety allows the poem to retain both mystical suggestiveness and artistic restraint.

    Paramahansa Yogananda similarly taught that the soul discovers its deepest fulfillment through interior communion with God. Paramahansa Yogananda explains, “The more you appreciate the divine image in everyone, the more you are alive with God’s consciousness.” 

    Dickinson’s speaker reveals a consciousness already so absorbed in the divine realm that outward movement appears unnecessary in comparison to the bliss of inward companionship.

    The speaker’s reverent inwardness also recalls Paramahansa Yogananda’s frequent emphasis on stillness and soul awareness. Divine realization requires inward receptivity, not ceaseless outward motion. Dickinson’s speaker therefore dramatizes the soul quietly remaining at home because the greatest conceivable Guest already dwells within.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul has Bandaged moments”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul has Bandaged moments”

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul has Bandaged moments” presents a musing on terror, ecstasy, and spiritual oscillation within the human psyche.  For these states of consciousness, it is perhaps more accurate to use the term “psyche” instead of soul, thereby interpreting “Soul” as a metaphor for “psyche.”

    Introduction and Text of “The Soul has Bandaged moments”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul has Bandaged moments” dramatizes the alternating states of fear, violation, liberation, and re-captivity that define the soul’s earthly experience. The speaker renders these states through stark, virtually violent imagery, suggesting that inner life is neither placid nor consistently enlightened but subject to extremes that test spiritual endurance.

    The poem plays out in mostly irregular stanzas, each marking a shift in the soul’s condition, from paralysis to assault, from escape to recapture. The speaker’s vision resonates with Paramahansa Yogananda’s teaching that the soul, though divine, becomes “identified with the body and mind,” thereby experiencing alternating bondage and freedom.

    Because the soul is perfect as a spark of God in the human being, it may be more accurate to think of the entity in this poem as the human psyche, instead of the soul, as the psyche is an inferior reflection of that divine Spirit.

    The Soul has Bandaged moments

    The Soul has Bandaged moments –
    When too appalled to stir –
    She feels some ghastly Fright come up
    And stop to look at her –

    Salute her – with long fingers –
    Caress her freezing hair –
    Sip, Goblin, from the very lips
    The Lover – hovered – o’er –
    Unworthy, that a thought so mean
    Accost a Theme – so – fair –

    The soul has moments of Escape –
    When bursting all the doors –
    She dances like a Bomb, abroad,
    And swings upon the Hours,

    As do the Bee – delirious borne –
    Long Dungeoned from his Rose –
    Touch Liberty – then know no more,
    But Noon, and Paradise –

    The Soul’s retaken moments –
    When, Felon led along,
    With shackles on the plumed feet,
    And staples, in the Song,

    The Horror welcomes her, again,
    These, are not brayed of Tongue –

    Commentary on “The Soul has Bandaged moments”

    This poem focuses on a portrayal of the human psyche’s oscillation between bondage and transcendence, rendered through visceral psychological and spiritual imagery.  The psyche is an interior reflection of the soul, or the soul’s shadow.  It is important to remember that the soul remains perfect and untouched by all human experience, even as the mind (or psyche) does undergo those experiences. 

    First Stanza: Perceived Fright

    The Soul has Bandaged moments –
    When too appalled to stir –
    She feels some ghastly Fright come up
    And stop to look at her –

    The speaker introduces a soul immobilized, “bandaged” not physically but psychologically, suggesting wounds that inhibit motion and will. This paralysis arises from an unnamed “ghastly Fright,” an entity that is less defined than felt, emphasizing the internal origin of terror.

    The fright’s act of stopping “to look at her” reverses the expected dynamic, placing the soul under scrutiny rather than in observation. Such inversion intensifies vulnerability, as the soul becomes the object of an invasive awareness it cannot evade.

    Paramahansa Yogananda teaches that fear arises when consciousness forgets its divine source and identifies with limitation, a condition that leaves the soul susceptible to imagined horrors. The speaker’s depiction aligns with this notion, as the fright appears less an external demon than a manifestation of estranged awareness.

    Second Stanza: The Value of Experience

    Salute her – with long fingers –
    Caress her freezing hair –
    Sip, Goblin, from the very lips
    The Lover – hovered – o’er –
    Unworthy, that a thought so mean
    Accost a Theme – so – fair –

    The second stanza intensifies the violation, as the fright transforms into a grotesque intimacy that mocks tenderness. The “long fingers” and “freezing hair” suggest a parody of affection, where what should comfort instead invades and chills.

    The image of the “Goblin” sipping from lips once sanctified by a “Lover” dramatizes desecration, implying that sacred experience can be corrupted by lower consciousness. The speaker recoils at the indignity, declaring such intrusion “unworthy” of the soul’s inherent fairness.

    In earlier reflections at my literary website, Linda’s Literary Home, the soul’s purity is often described as inviolable despite worldly distortions, a distinction the present speaker struggles to maintain. The stanza underscores that experience, even when degrading, forces recognition of contrast between the soul’s divine origin and its earthly entanglements.

    Third Stanza: Severed Elation

    The soul has moments of Escape –
    When bursting all the doors –
    She dances like a Bomb, abroad,
    And swings upon the Hours,

    The tone shifts abruptly as the soul achieves explosive liberation, “bursting all the doors” that previously confined it. The simile “like a Bomb” conveys both violence and exhilaration, suggesting that freedom arrives not gently but through rupture.

    The soul’s movement “upon the Hours” indicates transcendence of temporal limitation, as if time itself becomes a medium for play rather than constraint. Such imagery evokes ecstatic states in which consciousness expands beyond ordinary bounds.

    Paramahansa Yogananda often describes spiritual awakening as a sudden expansion into joy, where the devotee feels unbound by material restrictions. The speaker captures this surge, yet its intensity hints at instability, as what erupts so forcefully may not sustain itself.

    Fourth Stanza: Subtle Escape

    As do the Bee – delirious borne –
    Long Dungeoned from his Rose –
    Touch Liberty – then know no more,
    But Noon, and Paradise –

    The speaker refines the image of escape through the metaphor of a bee released from confinement, emphasizing natural joy rather than explosive force. The bee, once “dungeoned,” now experiences liberty as immersion in “Noon, and Paradise,” suggesting fullness and illumination.

    This state implies a loss of self-consciousness, where the soul, like the bee, ceases to analyze and simply exists within bliss. The word “delirious” conveys both intoxication and transcendence, a condition beyond rational articulation.

    Paramahansa Yogananda’s teachings describe divine communion as a state where the devotee “forgets the body in joy,” an idea reflected in the bee’s total absorption. The speaker thus presents a more harmonious form of freedom, one aligned with the soul’s natural affinity for the divine.

    Fifth Stanza: A Cacophony of Plight

    The Soul’s retaken moments –
    When, Felon led along,
    With shackles on the plumed feet,
    And staples, in the Song,

    The return to bondage is rendered with judicial severity, as the soul becomes a “Felon” led in chains, suggesting condemnation rather than mere relapse. The “plumed feet” evoke former freedom, now mocked by shackles that deny their natural function.

    The phrase “staples, in the Song” implies that even expression becomes constrained, as if the soul’s voice is fastened and distorted. This image captures the frustration of remembering freedom while being unable to reclaim it.

    In my prior commentary on other pages of this site, Linda’s Literary Home, I have suggested that such reversals often reveal the cyclical nature of the spiritual struggle, where insight does not guarantee permanence. The speaker underscores that the soul’s plight includes not only suffering but the memory of lost transcendence.

    Sixth Stanza: The Unspeakable Ineffable

    The Horror welcomes her, again,
    These, are not brayed of Tongue –

    The final lines close with a return to horror, now familiar enough to “welcome” the soul, suggesting a grim cycle rather than a singular event. The recurrence implies that such states are integral to the soul’s earthly passage.

    The assertion that these experiences “are not brayed of Tongue” emphasizes their ineffability, resisting articulation despite their intensity. Language fails where inner extremity begins, leaving only suggestive imagery.

    Paramahansa Yogananda notes that the deepest spiritual and psychological experiences 

    transcend verbal expression, accessible only through direct realization. The speaker concludes within that silence, where terror and transcendence alike elude the limits of speech.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s Superior instants” 

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s Superior instants” 

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s Superior instants” dramatizes the soul’s ascent beyond worldly consciousness into the sublime perception of immortality.

    Introduction and Text of “The Soul’s Superior instants”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s Superior instants” offers one of the speaker’s most concentrated musings on the nature of mystical awareness. The little drama portrays those elevated moments when the soul withdraws from earthly distraction and experiences its eternal connection to God, its Maker.

    The poem plays out in four quatrains, each deepening the speaker’s movement away from mortal limitation and toward spiritual omnipotence—a progression often encountered in Dickinsonian poetry. 

    As in many Dickinson poems, the speaker presents the soul as a being capable of transcending ordinary consciousness and entering a realm where immortality becomes not merely a theological notion but an intuitive certainty. 

    The great spiritual leader known as “the Father of Yoga in the West”Paramahansa Yogananda taught that “the soul is the true and immortal nature of man,” a realization perceived only with direct interior awareness. 

    The Soul’s Superior instants

    The Soul’s Superior instants
    Occur to Her – alone –
    When friend – and Earth’s occasion
    Have infinite withdrawn –

    Or She – Herself – ascended
    To too remote a Height
    For lower Recognition
    Than Her Omnipotent –

    This Mortal Abolition
    Is seldom – but as fair
    As Apparition – subject
    To Autocratic Air –

    Eternity’s disclosure
    To favorites – a few –
    Of the Colossal substance
    Of Immortality

    Commentary on “The Soul’s Superior instants”

    Emily Dickinson’s speaker depicts the soul’s temporary liberation from earthly consciousness into direct communion with Eternal Reality.

    First Stanza: The Ascendant Soul

    The Soul’s Superior instants
    Occur to Her – alone –
    When friend – and Earth’s occasion
    Have infinite withdrawn –

    The speaker opens by asserting that the soul’s “Superior instants” occur in solitude, after “friend” and “Earth’s occasion” have withdrawn into infinity. Earthly duties, social obligations, and even cherished companionship must recede before the soul can recognize its own higher reality. The speaker implies that spiritual revelation demands a stillness unavailable amid worldly distraction.

    The phrase “Earth’s occasion” suggests the temporary and often noisy events associated with physical existence. Dickinson’s speaker frequently distinguishes between the fleeting nature of earthly concerns and the permanence of spiritual truth, and here she dramatizes that distinction with unusual compression. The withdrawal of earthly circumstance does not signal loneliness but liberation into a deeper awareness.

    Paramahansa Yogananda repeatedly emphasized that the soul realizes its divine identity only after consciousness turns inward through meditation and silence. He explained that “when you close your eyes in meditation, you see the vastness of your consciousness—you see that you are in the center of eternity.” 

    The speaker’s solitude resembles that inward withdrawal in which the soul ceases identifying with outward activity and begins perceiving its immortal nature. It can do this only after transcending earthly noise and activity.

    The speaker’s insistence on aloneness also recalls the mystical isolation often dramatized throughout Dickinson’s poetry. Her speakers frequently inhabit a realm inaccessible to ordinary social understanding because spiritual intuition exceeds common perception. 

    As  I have elucidated in a number of commentaries on  Dickinson poems at Linda’s House of Letters, Dickinson often observes and professes mystical tendencies as the poet’s speakers often privilege inward revelation above public validation.

    Second Stanza: The Aboveness

    Or She – Herself – ascended
    To too remote a Height
    For lower Recognition
    Than Her Omnipotent –

    The second stanza shifts from withdrawal to ascension, as the speaker describes the soul rising to “too remote a Height” for ordinary recognition. The soul’s elevation places it beyond the comprehension of lower consciousness, and thus only the “Omnipotent” can fully recognize it. The movement dramatizes an ascent from finite awareness into divine perception.

    The phrase “too remote a Height” conveys not distance in a physical sense but transcendence beyond material categories. Dickinson’s speaker repeatedly portrays spiritual experience as inaccessible to those confined solely to sensory knowledge. The soul, once elevated, exists in a realm where earthly standards lose authority.

    The speaker’s use of “Omnipotent” implies direct relation between the soul and divine consciousness. Paramahansa Yogananda taught that the soul originates in Spirit and must eventually “climb back up the ladder of consciousness to Spirit.” The stanza enacts precisely such a climb, depicting the soul’s temporary escape from mortal identity into its higher inheritance.

    Dickinson’s mystical imagination frequently renders heaven not as a distant locality but as an altered state of perception. The soul’s ascension therefore becomes an inward enlargement of consciousness rather than a physical departure from the world. Paramahansa Yogananda similarly affirmed that “the highest wisdom is Self-realization—knowing the Self, the soul, as eternally inseparable from God.” 

    The speaker’s elevated soul can no longer accept “lower Recognition,” because ordinary human judgment cannot evaluate transcendent awareness. The soul’s superior instant grants knowledge that exceeds intellectual explanation. Such moments remain rare for the unself-realized because they require the temporary suspension of mortal consciousness itself.

    Third Stanza: Death’s Removal

    This Mortal Abolition
    Is seldom – but as fair
    As Apparition – subject
    To Autocratic Air –

    The speaker now characterizes the soul’s elevation as “This Mortal Abolition,” suggesting a temporary removal of mortal limitation. The word “Abolition” indicates not physical death but the suspension of ordinary worldly consciousness. Such experiences occur “seldom,” yet they possess extraordinary beauty and authority.

    The comparison to “Apparition” lends the experience an ethereal and supernatural quality. The soul’s superior instant appears almost ghostlike because it transcends material certainty and sensory verification. Dickinson’s speaker often portrays spiritual realities as elusive presences glimpsed briefly through intuition.

    The “Autocratic Air” suggests sovereign spiritual authority. During these superior instants, the soul recognizes a reality beyond earthly systems and conventions. The elevated consciousness assumes command over fear, limitation, and mortal uncertainty.

    Paramahansa Yogananda frequently taught that human beings mistakenly identify themselves with temporary bodily existence rather than immortal soul-consciousness. He declared, “You are immortal; your trials are mortal.” Dickinson’s speaker dramatizes precisely such a release from mortal confinement, presenting the soul’s revelation as both rare and magnificent.

    The stanza’s imagery also evokes the delicate boundary between life and death that Dickinson explored throughout her poetry. Yet the speaker does not fear this “Mortal Abolition”; instead, she portrays it as beautiful and liberating. The experience resembles a mystical foretaste of immortality rather than annihilation.

    Fourth Stanza: The Vastness of Immortality

    Eternity’s disclosure
    To favorites – a few –
    Of the Colossal substance
    Of Immortality

    The final stanza reveals the culmination of the soul’s superior instant: “Eternity’s disclosure.” The speaker suggests that only “favorites – a few” receive such revelation, emphasizing the rarity of profound mystical experience to humanity in general. The disclosure grants direct intuition of immortality’s “Colossal substance.”

    The phrase “Colossal substance” conveys overwhelming spiritual magnitude. Immortality is not presented as abstraction or doctrine but as a living reality, immense beyond comprehension. Dickinson’s speaker attempts to compress infinity itself into poetic language.

    Paramahansa Yogananda taught that beneath human limitation exists an eternal identity untouched by death or suffering. He affirmed, “The ocean of Spirit has become the little bubble of my soul,” while insisting that the soul remains inseparable from divine consciousness. Dickinson’s speaker arrives at a similar realization through intuitive vision.

    The poem closes without returning fully to earthly awareness, allowing the final word, “Immortality,” to resonate with solemn grandeur. The speaker leaves readers suspended before the vastness of eternal existence itself. Dickinson’s speaker thus transforms a brief mystical instant into a revelation of the soul’s infinite destiny.