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Roger Harris



"Dear web-team, as per basic bio-data "Born in France in 1955 and has lived in Auroville since 1982" should suffice.."




City of Peace

City of Peace and God's unguarded light,
City of Silence and the rich unfolding word;
City of love, and a laughter of the Gods,
City of Man, his labour born of dream.
City of harvest, born of canyon soil,
City of rich acres sown with strong-eyed toil;
City whose song the soul enraptured sings,
City of lost boundaries, province once of kings.
City whose deep calm at sunset does recall
Ages when the earth stood golden, heaven-tall;
City on night's borderline outpost of dawn's light,
City born of promise and a conqueror's delight.


Autumn twilight

A season now draws to its end
The unforeseen approaches,
A guardian goddess come to lend
What body to our voices?
The autumn now across the sky
Is stained a blood-deep red,
The wind it whispers in the trees
The leaves fall to earth's bed.
The twilight whispers in the wind
A mood that seems to say,
That all our loves have come to weep,
But none have come to stay.
And all our lives at last have come
And gathered to her breast,
All our lives at last have come
At last have come to rest.



Like this storm within my heart

The wild rose bloomed on the mountainside
Between the heather and the broom;
And the birds sang your beauty.
The wild waves beat a rough lament
On ragged cliffs below,
As the mountain pines reached out,it seemed,
Out across the sea,
To where the thunder clouds had gathered
Like this storm within my heart.

Harvest Hill

The hawk on high air rides
Horizons hidden hills;
Herald of the heart's uprise
On a wing of prayer,
And the soul's release,

From barren years of doubt
And stranded disbelief;
Guardian of the heart's intent, and its mysteries,
Two hooded flames,
Its coal-dark eyes,
Seek out a soul that sees.

From Harvest Hill I watch its rise
I watch its glide and fall,
On Harvest Hill I feel her wind
And in my blood her call.

Ours the destiny one day to see
The vast expanse of infinity,
Hold Time and Space in one regard
And all the illusion old discard.

Inheritors of love's sweetness
We shall bear the Gods' delight,
As sun-white footsteps greet us
On a verge of inner sight.

For even now a strange wind blows,
That heralds her return,
The blood once spilt becomes a rose,
The flames unkindled burn.

The yellow moon has turned dark red
Strange stars have crossed the sky,
Fire consumes the marriage bed
Where soul and body lie.

O trembling tyrant ecstasy
What brings you now so nigh?


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