I saw my soul a traveler 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 can outlive the memory of the poet who speaks of Life Divine and metaphysical transformation underlined with mystical vision and metaphysical expression. The poet as a yogi has come to grasp and grapple with the conceit with some metrical word alignment and arrangement so structured and prosodic. The underlying beauty of the poem is metaphysical wisdom it endows with. 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! But it is a charge against that he is very, very abstract and intellectual.

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. He has reached a state of sublimity after having journeyed from the body to the mind to the Super Mind and its beyond.

It came as the eternal Fire, a spark emanating from it to light up matter taking to be a household of metaphysical transformation and illumination.

Whose is this life? Who has given 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 jus accelerates and activates the 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 was it 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. An Aurobindonian sonnet, it is about metaphysical transformation and illumination to feel and undergo. How to be illumined? How to reach that state? This is the thing to be felt.