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Tag: philosophy

  • William Butler Yeats’ “Sailing to Byzantium”

    Image:  William Butler Yeats

    William Butler Yeats’ “Sailing to Byzantium”

    William Butler Yeats’ “Sailing to Byzantium” is a profound meditation on aging, art, and the quest for spiritual transcendence, despite his failure to clearly grasp the Eastern religious/philosophical concepts he strived to portray.

    Introduction and Excerpt from “Sailing to Byzantium”

    William Butler Yeats’ “Sailing to Byzantium” is a profound meditation on aging, art, and the quest for spiritual transcendence. However, despite Yeats’ deep engagement with Eastern religion and philosophy, his interpretation and application of these concepts in his poetry often reveal a “Romantic misunderstanding,” as T.S. Eliot astutely observed. 

    This misunderstanding is clearly evident in “Sailing to Byzantium,” especially in its fourth stanza, where Yeats’ vision of eternal existence through art diverges significantly from Eastern religious/philosophical principles.

    Yeats wrote “Sailing to Byzantium” in 1926, at the age of 61,  as a reflection on the aging process and the spiritual journey required to maintain vitality in the face of physical decline. 

    Sailing to Byzantium

    That is no country for old men. The young
    In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
    —Those dying generations—at their song,
    The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
    Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
    Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
    Caught in that sensual music all neglect
    Monuments of unageing intellect.

    An aged man is but a paltry thing,
    A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
    Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
    For every tatter in its mortal dress,
    Nor is there singing school but studying
    Monuments of its own magnificence;
    And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
    To the holy city of Byzantium.

    O sages standing in God’s holy fire
    As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
    Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
    And be the singing-masters of my soul.
    Consume my heart away; sick with desire
    And fastened to a dying animal
    It knows not what it is; and gather me
    Into the artifice of eternity.

    Once out of nature I shall never take
    My bodily form from any natural thing,
    But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
    Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
    To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
    Or set upon a golden bough to sing
    To lords and ladies of Byzantium
    Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

    Commentary on “Sailing to Byzantium”

    The poem “Sailing to Byzantium” uses a journey to Byzantium (Constantinople now Istanbul,) as a metaphor for a spiritual quest, with the speaker seeking to transcend the limitations of the mortal body and achieve a form of immortality through art.

    First Stanza:  Contrasting Vividly

    That is no country for old men. The young
    In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
    —Those dying generations—at their song,
    The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
    Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
    Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
    Caught in that sensual music all neglect
    Monuments of unageing intellect.

    The opening stanza of “Sailing to Byzantium” presents a vivid contrast between the vitality of youth and the poet’s sense of alienation from the natural world as he ages. Yeats paints a picture of a country teeming with life, where “The young / In one another’s arms, birds in the trees” and “the mackerel-crowded seas” represent the cyclical nature of life and death. 

    The phrase “Those dying generations” underscores the transient nature of all living things, a concept that aligns with Eastern philosophy’s emphasis on impermanence.  However, Yeats’ reaction to this natural cycle reveals a departure from Eastern thought. 

    While Buddhism and Hinduism often advocate for acceptance of life’s impermanence, Yeats expresses a desire to escape it. His assertion that “all neglect / Monuments of unageing intellect” suggests a privileging of human intellect and art over the natural world, a distinctly Western perspective that contradicts the Eastern emphasis on harmony with nature.

    Second Stanza:  Aging and the Quest for Renewal

    An aged man is but a paltry thing,
    A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
    Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
    For every tatter in its mortal dress,
    Nor is there singing school but studying
    Monuments of its own magnificence;
    And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
    To the holy city of Byzantium.

    In the second stanza, Yeats further develops the theme of aging and the quest for spiritual renewal. The image of an aged man as “a paltry thing, / A tattered coat upon a stick” vividly conveys the physical deterioration that comes with age. However, Yeats proposes that this decline can be transcended if the soul can “clap its hands and sing, and louder sing / For every tatter in its mortal dress.”

    This concept of the soul triumphing over bodily decay echoes certain Eastern philosophical ideas, particularly the Hindu concept of the soul, which is the eternal self, transcending the physical body. 

    However, Yeats’ emphasis on the soul’s need to “sing” and study “Monuments of its own magnificence” reveals a more Western, ego-centric approach to spiritual transcendence. In contrast, many Eastern philosophies advocate for the dissolution of the ego and the realization of the soul’s unity with the Divine Reality.

    Third Stanza:  The Concept of Transformation 

    O sages standing in God’s holy fire
    As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
    Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
    And be the singing-masters of my soul.
    Consume my heart away; sick with desire
    And fastened to a dying animal
    It knows not what it is; and gather me
    Into the artifice of eternity.

    The third stanza introduces the “sages standing in God’s holy fire,” whom the speaker implores to be the “singing-masters of my soul.”  This imagery draws on both Western and Eastern concepts, blending Christian imagery of holy fire with the Eastern idea of spiritual masters or gurus. The speaker’s desire to have his heart consumed away and to be gathered into “the artifice of eternity” reflects a yearning for spiritual transformation.

    However, Yeats’ conception of this transformation as an “artifice” created by sages diverges from Eastern philosophical traditions.  In many Eastern spiritual practices, enlightenment or liberation is seen not as an artificial state created by external forces, but as the realization of one’s true nature, of uniting the individual soul with the Oversoul, or God.  Yeats’ portrayal suggests a more Western, interventionist approach to spiritual transformation.

    Fourth Stanza: Romantic Misunderstanding

    Once out of nature I shall never take
    My bodily form from any natural thing,
    But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
    Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
    To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
    Or set upon a golden bough to sing
    To lords and ladies of Byzantium
    Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

    The final stanza of “Sailing to Byzantium” most clearly demonstrates Yeats’ “Romantic misunderstanding” of Eastern philosophy. Here, the speaker envisions his eternal form not as a dissolution into God-consciousness (self-realization), as many Eastern traditions insist, but as a golden artifact created by “Grecian goldsmiths.”  This vision of immortality through art is fundamentally at odds with Eastern concepts of liberation from the cycle of birth and death.

    Yeats’ desire to take a form “Of hammered gold and gold enamelling” to entertain “lords and ladies of Byzantium” reveals a distinctly Western preoccupation with individual identity and artistic legacy. This contrasts sharply with Eastern religious/philosophical concepts such as the Buddhist non-self upon entering nirvana or the Hindu idea of samadhi or liberation from cycles of death and rebirth.

    Furthermore, the speaker’s intention to “sing / To lords and ladies of Byzantium / Of what is past, or passing, or to come” suggests a linear view of time that is more aligned with Western thought than with the cyclical time concepts expounded in Eastern religion/philosophy.

    While “Sailing to Byzantium” is undoubtedly a masterpiece of poetic craft, it also reveals the limitations of Yeats’ understanding and application of Eastern philosophical concepts. 

    His vision of spiritual transcendence, particularly as expressed in the fourth stanza, remains rooted in Western ideas of individual immortality and artistic legacy, rather than the Eastern concepts of ego dissolution and unity with the Divine Creator. 

    This “Romantic misunderstanding” of Eastern philosophy, as Eliot termed it, is indeed on full display in this poem, showcasing both the brilliance of Yeats’ poetic vision and the cultural limitations that shaped his interpretation of Eastern thought.

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  • Langston Hughes’ “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”

    Image:  Langston Hughes.  Library of Congress. Photographer Gordon Parks 

    Langston Hughes’ “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”

    Langston Hughes’ speaker in “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” displays his message in five versagraphic movements, thematically exploring his soul experience with a “cosmic voice,” which includes and unites all of humanity.

    Introduction and Text of “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”

    Langston Hughes’ speaker in “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” displays his message with a “cosmic voice,” which includes and unites all of humanity.  The poem plays out in five versagraphic movements, focusing on the theme of soul exploration.

    The Cosmic Voice in Poetry

    Writers, especially poets, often employ the “cosmic voice” in order to provide a deep and wide view of historical events and vast swaths of space.  A device called the omniscient speaker is often used in fiction; that voice is similar to the cosmic voice but much more limited.

    Time and space may stretch or contract as needed as the cosmic seer narrates what he experiences.  The “cosmic voice” may come to a poet through a vivid imagination; however, it transcends the imagination as a truth teller.   Only a few poets have been blessed with such a voice; examples are Emily Dickinson, Rabindranath Tagore, Paramahansa Yogananda, and to a limited degree Walt Whitman.

    The cosmic voice imparts truth through deep intuition.  The soul of the speaker employing the cosmic voice is, even if only temporarily as is the case with Langston Hughes, becomes aware of its vast and profound knowledge.  The cosmic voice speaks from a place far beyond ordinary sense awareness.  

    Individuals who comprehend the cosmic voice are bequeathed a consciousness far beyond their own sense awareness and thus comprehend the unity of all created things.  Those individuals are heralded into the realm of the Cosmic Creator and often remain transformed beings for having experienced that Sacred Locus.

    Langston Hughes and the Cosmic Voice

    The voice employed in “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” is not a whining, complaining one so often heard in the protest voices of activists; instead Hughes is employing the cosmic voice—the voice of the soul that knows itself to be a divine entity.  That voice speaks with inherent authority; it reports its intuitions so that others might hear and regain their own experiences through its guidance.

    Langston Hughes’ speaker in “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” imparts his discourse in five versagraphic movements.  His theme explores with the cosmic voice that unites all of humanity.  

    The vital lines that serve as a refrain—”I’ve known rivers” and “My soul has grown deep like the rivers”—work like a chant, instilling in the listener the truth that the speaker wishes to impart.  That Langston Hughes was able to employ a cosmic voice in a poem at age seventeen is quite remarkable.  

    Although some of his later work, even as much of it remained important and very entertaining, descended into the banal and at times even slipshod, no one can deny his marvelous accomplishment with this early poem in which he speaks as a master craftsman.

    The Negro Speaks of Rivers 

    I’ve known rivers:
    I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow
    of human blood in human veins.

    My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

    I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
    I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
    I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
    I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
         went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy
         bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

    I’ve known rivers:
    Ancient, dusky rivers.

    My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

    Reading:   Langston Hughes reads his poem “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”

    Commentary on “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”

    Langston Hughes’ speaker in “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” stands as high testimony to the poet’s ability to craft genuine, heartfelt poetry.  To have composed such a profound piece of art at such an early age bespeaks a literary marvel.

    First Movement:  The River as a Symbol

    I’ve known rivers:
    I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow
    of human blood in human veins.

    The poem opens with the speaker remarking rather nonchalantly that he has experienced the natural phenomenon known as “rivers.”  He has no doubt observed rivers flowing in their channels, and he has become aware that rivers flow through the earth as blood flows through the veins of human beings.  

    Both flowing rivers and flowing blood must be ancient, but the speaker intuits that the flow of the rivers surely predates that of the appearance of the human being upon the planet. The river image becomes a symbol linking all of humanity from the pre-historic era to the present day.   

    As the “river” has served to carry the physical encasements (bodies) and mental bodies over the rough terrain of land and rocks, the symbolic river carries the soul on its Divine journey.   Readers and listeners will easily intuit the significance of the speaker’s focus as it ranges far beyond the boundaries of the physical, material universe.

    Second Movement:  Intuitive Awareness

    My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

    This line indicates that the speaker has become aware that through his own soul he can intuit historical events, places, and people, who have existed from the beginning to time.  The line becomes a refrain and will be encountered again in the poem because of its great importance.  

    It becomes quite obvious that the speaker would not have been able to know literally the rivers of antiquity that he claims to “know.”  However, through his soul, or mystical awareness, he can.  Thus, he again employs the cosmic, thus mystical, voice to fashion his assertion.

    Third Movement: Historical Unity

    I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
    I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
    I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
    I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
         went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy
         bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

    The speaker claims that he “bathed in the Euphrates” at the dawning of Western civilization.  From the Euphrates to the Mississippi Rivers, the speaker offers a huge expansion of time and place.  

    In biblical times to present time, he lays claim to knowledge, again impossible except for soul consciousness. Awareness through the soul is unlimited, unlike the limitations of body and mind.  The speaker could not have experienced the Euphrates when “dawns were young.”  

    But the cosmic voice of the speaker can place itself at any point along the time line of civilization or cosmic creation. In claiming to have built his “hut near the Congo,” the speaker continues his cosmic, mystically inspired journey.  He “looked upon the Nile”  and “raised the pyramids” only as a cosmic-voiced speaker.

    People of all times and climes have been influenced by the river experience.  The speaker can thus unite all races, nationalities, creeds, and religions in his gathering of historic experiences within which all those peoples have lived.   And he accomplishes this feat through employment of the symbolic force of the “river.” 

    Emphasizing the American experience, the speaker claims to have “heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln / went / down to New Orleans . . . .”   The allusion to President Abraham Lincoln reminds the reader of the process of slave emancipation.

    As with all the rivers mentioned, the Mississippi River, an American river, stands as a symbol of the blood of the human race—not naturally segregated into color and national categories. The American Mississippi River, as the earlier mention of rivers has done, symbolizes the human blood of the human race—the only race that scientifically exists.

    Fourth Movement:  A Soul Chant

    I’ve known rivers:
    Ancient, dusky rivers.

    Because of the importance of the “river” as a symbol, the speaker repeats the line, “I’ve known rivers.”  Like the line, “My soul has grown deep like the rivers,” this one also  serves as a refrain.   If the speaker had chanted the line many more times, the poem’s delightful charm would have even been enhanced—that line is that crucial!

    The soul, the river, the depth of the soul and the river—all force history to yield a mighty blessing on those who have “known rivers,”  and whose souls have grown deep like those rivers. 

    Thus the speaker offers a brief description of how those river appear:  they are extremely old, and they are mystically dark, a measure that alludes to the dark-skinned race with graceful precision, even as it holds all races as having experienced the nature of the mystic river.

    Fifth Movement: Life Force and the Symbol of the River

    My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

    The speaker’s soul has grown profoundly deep like the rivers and along with the rivers.  Civilizations have grown up and grown deep along rivers all over Planet Earth. The soul that possesses the body is the life force informing and maintaining that body. 

    Likewise, rivers streaming through the earth give life force to civilizations and also assist in maintaining those civilization with the products and supplies that river travel has allowed over the centuries.

    The speaker is taking his own identity from the energetic force of the soul and the river force of the earth.  The children of the Divine Creative Reality (God) all spring forth from a common ancestry, a symbolic set of original parents.   It has always been rivers that link all of those ancestors as the blood in their veins links them into one family—the Human Race.

    The cosmic voice of a young poet—who happened possess the darker hue of skin along the color spectrum—has rendered a statement that could enlighten and reconnect all peoples if only they could listen with their own cosmic awareness.  

    At the soul level, all human beings remain eternally linked as children of the Great Divine River King (God). That River God flows in the blood of His offspring. And that same River God flows in the rivers of the planet on which they find themselves too often segregated by ignorance of their own common being as sparks of the Divine.

    Instead of identifying with the perishable body and changeable mind that too often rule, the simple act of identifying with their own cosmic nature would allow individuals to experience the cosmic voice of their own soul. The simple poet named Langston Hughes has offered a useful template for viewing the world through a cosmic lens in his nearly perfect poem.

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  • Rabindranath Tagore’s “The Last Bargain”

    Image:  Rabindranath Tagore  -  Britannica

    Image:  Rabindranath Tagore  – Britannica

    Rabindranath Tagore’s “The Last Bargain”

    Rabindranath Tagore’s “The Last Bargain” focuses on what seems to be an quandary:  how is it that a child’s offering of “nothing” to a seeker becomes the “last bargain” as well as the best bargain?

    Introduction and Text of “The Last Bargain”

    The human mind/hear/soul engages in the spiritual search in order to gain freedom and bliss.  Much sorrow and pain afflict those who focus solely on the material level of existence.  

    As the speaker in Rabindranath Tagore’s “The Last Bargain” searches for a job, he is, in fact, demonstrating the difference between focusing on the material level of being and focusing on the spiritual level.

    The Last Bargain

    “Come and hire me,” I cried, while in the morning I was walking on the stone-paved road.
    Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot.
    He held my hand and said, “I will hire you with my power.”
    But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot.

    In the heat of the midday the houses stood with shut doors.
    I wandered along the crooked lane.
    An old man came out with his bag of gold.
    He pondered and said, “I will hire you with my money.”
    He weighed his coins one by one, but I turned away.

    It was evening. The garden hedge was all aflower.
    The fair maid came out and said, “I will hire you with a smile.”
    Her smile paled and melted into tears, and she went back alone into the dark.

    The sun glistened on the sand, and the sea waves broke waywardly.
    A child sat playing with shells.
    He raised his head and seemed to know me, and said, “I hire you with nothing.”
    From thenceforward that bargain struck in child’s play made me a free man.

    Commentary on “The Last Bargain”

    Rabindranath Tagore’s “The Last Bargain” presents an enigma:  how can it be that a child offering nothing can be the bargain that makes a “free man” of the seeker?

    First Movement:   Seeking Employment

    “Come and hire me,” I cried, while in the morning I was walking on the stone-paved road.
    Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot.
    He held my hand and said, “I will hire you with my power.”
    But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot.

    The opening movement taking place in the morning finds the speaker apparently seeking employment; thus he announces, “Come and hire me.”  A king then comes on the scene, offering the individual employment through his “power.”

    However, the job seeker determines that the king’s power held very little value.  The king then moves away in his “chariot.”  Then the speaker continues to search.  Now, the reader is likely to suspect that this speaker is not seeking a job on the material, planet Earth, physical sense.

    Second Movement:  Continuing the Search

    In the heat of the midday the houses stood with shut doors.
    I wandered along the crooked lane.
    An old man came out with his bag of gold.
    He pondered and said, “I will hire you with my money.”
    He weighed his coins one by one, but I turned away.

    The speaker keeps up his search, and the time now is “midday.”  He takes notice that the doors to all of the houses are closed.  All of a sudden, an old man comes on the scene; he is carrying a “bag of gold.” The old man then inform the seeker that he will offer him a job “with [his] money.”

    The old man counts out his coins piece by piece, which demonstrates his attachment to money—a physical level necessity and reality.  However, that display of physical attachment annoys this spiritual seeker, who then turns away in disgust.

    The speaker remains unimpressed by the power of a king, and he is not favorable to an old man’s “gold.”  The reader can now be assured that the speaker is not seeking an earthly job and thus not seeking worldly goods; instead, he is searching for the spiritual love that comes only from God.  Worldly wealth and power hold no importance for him.

    Third Movement:    Experiencing a Change

    It was evening. The garden hedge was all aflower.
    The fair maid came out and said, “I will hire you with a smile.”
    Her smile paled and melted into tears, and she went back alone into the dark.

    However, the seeker continues on well into evening, when he sees, a “garden hedge [ ] all aflower.”  Then he encounters a “fair maid” who says, “I will hire you with a smile.”  But he inevitably experiences the transformation that comes to the aged human being as the smile “paled and melted into tears.”  Thus rejected, the maiden “went back alone into the dark.”

    Fourth Movement:   The Best Bargain

    The sun glistened on the sand, and the sea waves broke waywardly.
    A child sat playing with shells.
    He raised his head and seemed to know me, and said, “I hire you with nothing.”
    From thenceforward that bargain struck in child’s play made me a free man.

    In the final movement, the speaker, as he is walking along the ocean’s shore, watching the turbulent waves, and meeting a child who is playing on the shore, is afforded his final bargain: the child affirms, “I hire you with nothing.”  This final bargain thus results in a situation that ultimately becomes the best bargain.

    The best bargain is the one that liberates the seeker from searching for satisfaction from earthly things.  He, then instead, may focus his attention on his own soul, where the real “job” of seeking freedom, liberation, and bliss exist.

    It is the quiet Spirit—the seeming nothingness contrasting with materiality, the space transcending time and matter—that turns out to be the genuine, true employer.  Working for the Celestial, Divine Employer (God) affords the laborer the true freedom, soul realization, and bliss—none of which can achieved by earthly power, gold, and physical affection.

  • Original Song:  “Astral Mother” with Prose Commentary

    Image: Mommy and Me – Photo by Ron W. G.

    Original Song:  “Astral Mother” with Prose Commentary

    This song is dedicated to my beautiful mother, Helen Richardson, whose soul left the physical planet Earth at the age of 58 and now resides in the astral world.  By faith and deep love, I visit her there from time to time.

    Introduction with Text of “Astral Mother”

    My original song, “Astral Mother,” plays out in three verse-movements and two chorus-movements.  A traditional verse is a unified set of lines—often four but through innovation the number is not consistent.

    Thus, a verse-movement may be any number of lines or stanzas because the emphasis in on the theme of the movement.  A movement depends upon theme rather than number of lines or stanzas.

    On the astral plane, souls have shed their bodies of chemicals and dust and reside in bodies of light.  Although the physical body is also made fundamentally of light, the astral body is perceived as light more easily than the “mud” covering the soul on the earthly plane.

    After visiting my mother on the astral plane, I bring back images, ideas, and thoughts that I dedicate to her in poems and songs.  The text of the song follows, and you are welcome to listen to the song on SoundCloud.

    Astral Mother

    In memoriam: Helen Richardson
    June 27, 1923 — September 5, 1981

    for your beautiful soul

    You are waiting now . . .
    A bright star light
    In the astral world

    You have shed the mud
    That covers the soul
    On the earthly plane . . . —

    Where you were my mother, and I was your child
    You were my mother, and I was your child . . . 

    You are watching for me . . .
    To catch my beam
    In the astral world

    We will live again
    The love we lived
    On the earthly plane . . . —

    Where you were my mother, and I was your child
    You were my mother, and I was your child . . .

    We will understand the Spirit-made plan . . .
    That kept us a while . . .
    In this earthly world . . . —

    Where you were my mother, and I was your child
    You were my mother, and I was your child . . .

    O, my Divine Mother, make me Thy Divine Child!
    O, my Divine Mother, make me Thy Divine Child!

    Commentary on “Astral Mother”

    A daughter addresses her mother who has departed the earth and now resides in the astral world.  Through faith and divine guidance, the daughter visits the mother and creates a tribute to her mother’s beautiful soul of light

    First Verse-Movement:  Living as Light in the Astral World

    You are waiting now . . .
    A bright star light
    In the astral world

    You have shed the mud
    That covers the soul
    On the earthly plane . . . —

    From the earthly plane of existence, the singer/narrator is addressing a loved one who is residing on the astral plane of existence.  

    The soul of the departed loved one is now existing in her astral/causal bodies—where the soul continues without its physical encasement.  Paramahansa Yogananda explains this phenomenon:

    astral body. Man’s subtle body of light, prana or lifetrons; the second of three sheaths that successively encase the soul: the causal body (q.v.), the astral body, and the physical body. The powers of the astral body enliven the physical body, much as electricity illumines a bulb. 

    The astral body has nineteen elements: intelligence, ego, feeling, mind (sense consciousness); five instruments of knowledge (the sensory powers within the physical organs of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch); five instruments of action (the executive powers in the physical instruments of procreation, excretion, speech, locomotion, and the exercise of manual skill); and five instruments of life force that perform the functions of circulation, metabolization, assimilation, crystallization, and elimination.

    The singer/narrator affirms that her loved one—her belovèd mother—is now “waiting” in her body of light as it exists on the astral plane. The singer/narrator in the second part of the movement refers to the physical body as “mud” which the astral mother has now “shed.”  The physical body encases the soul on the earthly plane of existence.

    The physical body may be metaphorically referred to as “mud” after the Biblical description of the human body:

    In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. (KJV Genesis 3:19)

    But after the soul leaves that physical encasement, it continues its existence in the two other bodies—astral and causal—on the astral plane where it is perceived only as light. Thus, the daughter/speaker has perceived her mother as a body of light, which she designates metaphorically as “a bright star light.”

    Second Verse-Movement:  Waiting to Spot a Familiar Dot of Light

    You are watching for me . . .
    To catch my beam
    In the astral world

    We will live again
    The love we lived
    On the earthly plane . . . —

    The singer/narrator then affirms that the astral mother is waiting for her daughter to join her on the astral plane.  The daughter will become a “beam” of light after she leaves her own physical encasement, entering the “astral world.”

    The singer/narrator then affirms that the mother and daughter will experience that same love that they shared when they were both on the earth together.   The “lived” love and they continue to live that love, but after they both are in the same level of existence, they are likely to recognize and have a deeper level of awareness of that love.

    Third Verse-Movement:  Understanding and Appreciating Love and Light

    We will understand the Spirit-made plan . . .
    That kept us a while . . .
    In this earthly world . . . —

    The singer/narrator finally affirms that after the mother and daughter are reunited, for however briefly that reunion might exist, they will understand more about the divine plan that God has for them.

    They were both maintained on the earth planet for while; they no doubt had questions about the meaning of life and all of its vicissitudes.  The singer/narrator predicts that after entering the astral plane, both she and her mother will understand more about meaning and purpose then they had before.

    Experience is great teacher; and God puts His children in positions from which they may learn what they need in order to meet their karmic demands. The singer/narrator holds great faith that she and her mother on the path that leads to the ultimate enlightenment of union with the Divine.

    Chorus-Movement 1:  A Simple Statement of Fact

    Where you were my mother, and I was your child
    You were my mother, and I was your child . . .

    In the first chorus, the singer/narrator simply states the fact that the addressee in the song was the singer’s mother, and the singer was the child of the mother.   On the earth plane, they were mother and daughter.

    The simplicity of the statement may be misleading.  This simple fact is, however, very important.  On the earth plane, they were mother and daughter, but on the astral plane they are only two individual souls that are children of the One Father-Mother-God.

    The mother/daughter relationship on earth is likely quite a different one from that relationship as two individual souls on the astral plane.  Despite that obvious fact, the important fact to remember is that love exists between the two; it existed on earth and it will exist in the astral world.

    Chorus-Movement 2:  A Prayer-Chant to the Divine Mother

    O, my Divine Mother, make me Thy Divine Child!
    O, my Divine Mother, make me Thy Divine Child!

    The momentousness of the shift from the earth relationship of mother/daughter to Divine Mother/Divine Child cannot be overstated.  

    By ending with a chant-like prayer, the singer/narrator affirms that through the love relationship between earth mother and daughter, she has come to understand that both mother and daughter are children of the Divine Reality (Heavenly Father or Divine Mother) or God.

    And the singer/narrator then supplicates to God as Divine Mother to help her realize her soul as that “Divine Child” that she is.  The same supplication is offered on behalf of the astral mother, whom the singer/narrator has been addressing.

    Both former earth mother and earth daughter are children of the Divine, and they both must one day come to realize that relationship to the Divine—and the singer/narrator prays for that to happen.