I am really wordless, speechless in reading and putting down my reactions as for going through the text of the poem. I do not know what it to say, what not, as for the beauty and brevity of the poem under our close scrutiny and discussion. We do not know if his poems are taught anywhere in India. Have the critics taken him up? Have the research scholars taken up his poetry for submitting their Ph.Ds.? How our syllabus-making committees! Whether that critical acumen or scholarship, inclusive of or leaving it around unawares, let us have the draughts of his poetic nectar.

Soul’s Silence as a poem outwits us with its brevity and metaphysical leaning. It is as such this keeps us on tenterhooks, keeps us spell-bound with its composition and meaning.

O Silence of the Infinite Soul, settle you in my heart! Make each beat of its mortal hour a fathomless part of Thy unimaginable deep! How beautiful are the poetic lines! How the lines touch the self, inner self!

The foam of timeless waves keeps rising and falling along  the wandering dream’s seashores beyond the earth’s call. Our thrill and beat, pulsation and impulse will come to a standstill. Why to be restless and impatient?

Everything retires and comes to the self to confide in with the lackluster felt about. The luminous distances of life finally retire from the interruptions of dim thought into a greater self. This is the truth.

There comes a time when one grows inward and it matters not about the glory of the world. Earthly possessions matter not as also the trifle things of the world. Human souls do not find interest in anything else. It draws and draws in, shrinks to its solitude.

Away from din and bustle, clamor and commotion, humdrum of life, deeper to oneself, into the deeps of within, there lie in the innermost recesses to confide in. There is a ripple to be felt. There is a vibration to be heard. Everything but gets submerged into a sea of rhythmic inwardness.

The interruptions of dim thought do not matter. The address with which the poem begins is marvelous, splendid indeed.

We are but the flames of the same Fire, the Rose blooming with the Bliss to be seen and marked.

O Silence of the infinite Soul,
Settle in my heart.
Make each beat of its mortal hour
A fathomless part

Of thy unimaginable deep;
My growing mood,
A motionless inscrutable fire
Of thy solitude,

Unmarred by the foam of timeless waves
That rise and fall
Along a verge of wandering dream
 Beyond earth’s call

The luminous distances of life
Slowly retire
From the interruptions of dim thought
Into a higher

Existence, where forever cease
All cry and stress
And vain shadows in a rhythmic sea
Of inwardness.