I couldn’t come from
the city according to our needs.
A oneness organization,
that’s the start of it,
the city the Earth needs.
The walls are coming down,
it’s where we begin.
This is the largest city in Heaven,
and it’s expensive to live in.

How many people protect themselves from the Infinite?
How many people have bibles
they won’t cross thresholds with?
They can’t get out of the Book
or this Name says.
They can’t plant infinity there,
and they argue and bicker among themselves about it,
the rulebook says.

Am I just a hedonistic paradise?
I sacrifice even my thoughts to the divine
and live a simple life to prove it.
I don’t cut down banyan trees.
I sit together with everybody there,
and I know hard work,
and I know rest and play.

I love God,
and that is my first priority,
not the God of this man says,
the God of the banyan tree.
I have seen God’s eyes
staring back at me in everyone’s.
I can pet a dog and feel that,
rub a cat.

I am about the mountain in springtime.
I know how to address the world:
oh my God I love you.
I have seen fire and rain,
and I changed my life because of it.
I no longer hurt people
or cause them pain.
I draw the lines everywhere
to prevent that.
I know the meaning of sacrifice.
It’s how my thoughts meet the world.
It’s how my hands meet the day.

I am an Aurovillian comes
theoretically,
and I shout this to the Earth.
I will get bigger than my kind.
I will transform consciousness inside
into our greater type.
I will give birth to divinity
on a collective field,
and our hands will salt the Earth
with its great and needed change,
and I am here my friend
opening doors for you
that you may walk through them.
Auroville will you hear me?
Auroville can you feel that
looking?

This poem was emailed to many Auroville email addresses, most all the principle leadership bodies, and it was the object of an art action on Sept 3rd and 4th, where I and Mithun taped and tacked it up on bulletin boards and walls around Auroville and on banyan trees in the township, or it was just handed to individuals. This is the performance art a recent poem, “The Diamond”, mentioned, before, I might add, there was inkling on my part to do any.

This poem and the preceding one made the secretary of Auroville, Jayanti Ravi, mad, and she got me kicked out of India over it, personally.