I saw my soul a traveller through Time;
From life to life the cosmic ways it trod,
Obscure in the depths and on the heights sublime,
Evolving from the worm into the god.

A spark of the eternal Fire, it came
To build a house in Matter for the Unborn.
The inconscient sunless Night received the flame,
In the brute seed of things dumb and forlorn

Life stirred and Thought outlined a gleaming shape
Till on the stark inanimate earth could move,
Born to somnambulist Nature in her sleep
A thinking creature who can hope and love.

Still by slow steps the miracle goes on,
The Immortal's gradual birth mid mire and stone.

The Miracle of Birth is really one of the best poems of Maharshi Aurobindo which will outlive the memory of the poet under our discussion as for mystical vision and clarity of metaphysical expression. It is here where he grapples with the miracle of birth and living. Whose gift is this life? How is Nature supple, full of cataclysmic transformation!

The poet says that his soul is but a traveler through Time. It has trodden the cosmic ways. Obscure depths as well as sublime heights both of them have engaged him.

It came as the eternal Fire, a spark emanating from it.

Whose is this life? Who gave it? The spark of the eternal Fire is for to comprehend it. How can matter house it? The spirit in the body is really a marvel. Nature just accelerates and activates things. Earth is dormant as it is. The house is built in the matter and the unborn sees the light. The night receives the flame and as thus life is born.

How did the things materialize it, galvanize it? How was matter infused in with life? How life instilled in consciousness?

The Miracle of Birth is about the mystery of life and living. Miracle has not ceased to be. It still keeps taking us. The Flame is intact, the Immortal Flame burning, but the process is the scheme of things.