The Divine Seed - A heart-touching poem on the soul’s origin from the Supreme
In silence where no echoes roam,
Before the stars were carved in dome,
Before the seas had learned to swell,
There stirred a Light no tongue could tell.
Not born of flesh, nor bound by clay,
Nor measured in the light of day—
The soul emerged, so pure, so still,
Breathed from the depths of Heaven’s will.
A whisper from the Heart Divine,
A spark of love through sacred line.
No greater truth was ever known—
That we were never, ever alone.
The soul, a flame without a name,
Fell gently like a golden flame.
It kissed the womb of space and dust,
Entrusting all with sacred trust.
It wrapped in form, forgot its flight,
Became a child of day and night.
It laughed, it wept, it broke, it bled,
Yet felt a pull from Light ahead.
A homesick ache within its chest,
A yearning not for food or rest,
But for the arms that once embraced,
The Source it knew, the Face it faced.
Through lifetimes layered thick with pain,
Through joy, through loss, through sun and rain,
It carried deep, though buried far,
A memory of who we are.
Then came the hour the veil grew thin,
When grace awakened truth within—
A voice, not heard but deeply felt:
“You are the Light in which I dwelt.”
“You are no orphan of the stars,
No wandering ghost with shattered scars.
You are My breath, My sacred gleam,
A verse within My endless dream.”
And in that touch, the soul could see
It wasn’t bound, it had the key.
The chains were thoughts, the walls were fear—
But God had always been so near.
The soul then bloomed in quiet grace,
With tears that washed the inner space.
It rose in love, and there it knew—
Its home was not a place, but Who.
So now it walks with softest tread,
With stars above and Light ahead.
And in its chest, it holds indeed—
The bloom of God—The Divine Seed.
Copyright © Prasath Ramaraj | Year Posted 2025
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