Message from Tagore

I thought I would share a poem by the great Indian poet, Rabindranath Tagore (Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913). In this poem, he reconciles the

idea of creativity (not creationism) with evolution (evolution as an expression of intelligence in nature, in addition to adaptation and natural selection as expressions of intelligence.) Einstein and Tagore once had a wonderful conversation in which they reconciled the worlds of science and consciousness. I hope to find it and post it on the board one of these days.

I hope you enjoy the poem:

Time is endless in your hands, my infinite Being.
There is none to count your minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
You know how to wait.
Your centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.
We have no time to lose, and having no time we must scramble for our chances.
We are too poor to be late.
And so it is that time goes by while I give it to every querulous man who claims it, and your altar is empty of all offerings to the last.
At the end of the day, I hasten in fear lest your gate be shut;
But I find that yet there is time.

On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But time is never lost.
The infinite consciousness has taken every moment of my life in its own hands.
Hidden in the heart of things, it is nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.
I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased.
In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.