Thy golden Light came down into my brain
And the grey rooms of mind sun-touched became
A bright reply to Wisdom’s occult plane,
A calm illumination and a flame.

Thy golden Light came down into my throat,
And all my speech is now a tune divine,
A paean-song of thee my single note;
My words are drunk with the Immortal’s wine.

Thy golden Light came down into my heart
Smiting my life with Thy eternity;
Now has it grown a temple where Thou art
And all its passions point towards only Thee.

Thy golden Light came down into my feet:
My earth is now thy playfield and thy seat.

The Golden Light as a shorter poem of Maharshi Aurobindo tells of the light, the golden light illuminating and lighting it all, the mystical light as envisaged through transcendental meditation, yogic reflection, as seen by the sadhakas, yogis  and the sages, what it is in that light, how the light falling upon and the sadhaka basking under, beaming with joy, but how to explain it, the state of feeling, the blessing bestowed upon? The Light Divine, it is, and the righteous fellows, the virtuous souls, the holy men see it otherwise in different ways partaking in. Some say it that it is a pure ring of light, so milky white and dazzling and flashing the mystical light. How the flash, the illumination? What to say it about? It is not a thing to be said, but to be felt inwardly, not to be explained.

First, the golden light strikes the brain and the chambers of the mind get bleached in that light, in that moonshine which is but a reply to Wisdom’s occult plane. A calm illumination or a flame, the white light or the golden light while flashing seizes the brain and the mind to purge them out and with the lighting of them, the plane of thinking changes it. The Immortal’s wine places the rhythm of speech and expression under devotional incantation.

Having affected them, the light enters into the throat through the head and his speech gets charged divinely. The words which they come out of his tongue carry the sweetness and grace of the Lord.

Again, one by one, the golden light comes down to the heart nestling it within to make the dwelling of God with Eternity taking, occupying the utmost innermost space. The heart is the temple where dwells in God.

Lastly, the golden light comes down to his earth and with the mingling of it through the feet the earth turns into a playfield of His Play. The whole body and the earth seem to be the playfield of His.

The Divine Diya, The Mystical Flame or Flicker of Light, the Golden Light, the Milky White Light, the Cool Floodlight, the Pure Ring-like Light, what to say about? Could Milton have written Paradise Lost without feeling the flicker? Could Cardinal Newman Lead, Kindly Light? The Sparkling Light, what to say about? The Glowing Light, whatever we talk about is concerned with our inner space.

Without being virtuous and righteous, spiritual and religious, pure and pietistic, devotional and God-loving, can one be able to see God and His Light Divine? Here the poem has born out of sadhna, yogic reflection. The Golden Light is the thing of deliberation and discussion.

When the golden Light lights up the brain, the grey rooms of the mind get sun-touched to be a reply to Wisdom’s occult plane. Just as a flicker it flickers and lights up, illumines all that calmly. When it passes through the throat, the sounds and words undergo changes, turning divine and classical. Finally, when the heart gets stricken, it seems to be an abode of God and God living therein. When coming down to earth, the whole world seems to be a playfield.

The journey is from devotion, meditation, sadhna, penance, testing to the flashing of the Golden Light and illumination of the soul to the feeling of inner light. The mind, the brain, the heart and the soul, all the four have their own realms and faculties to be unfolded by us. The mind and the brain give the thinking power, wisdom, and intellect. But the heart is for to feel within whereas the soul is but of God, the Over Soul. George Herbert too says it that that the heart is the temple of God where the soul is lodged in.

The Golden Light as a poem is one for the illumination of the soul and the Light Divine which a sadhaka comes to feel it. At that time, the beauty of the light bedazzles it all, so mystical and so full of blessedness to be felt at the personal level.