Tagore Kabir XV. A million is just short

This is the ninth post in the Tagore/Kabir series.

A million is just short
A million is just short of a
Billion; the
Vishnus and Brahmas and Krishnas and Shivas and Indras, their

Anchor is surely just sort of a minion, and minions
Do not go gently into that good night, brother, and the

Depths are not plumbed by
Following; nor
Leading, but by sinking and singing, by the float of the play on

Vina; the flowers and scents of sandal are the
Good night, the crumb of the good good morning.

Tagore comes short of Kabir

II. 57. jânh khelat vasant riturâj

  Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth, there the
    Unstruck Music sounds of itself,
  There the streams of light flow in all directions;
  Few are the men who can cross to that shore!
  There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands folded,
  Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads,
  Where millions of Brahmâs are reading the Vedas,
  Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation,
  Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky,
  Where the demi-gods and the munis are unnumbered,
  Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play on the vina—
  There is my Lord self-revealed: and the scent of sandal and
    flowers dwells in those deeps.

The three eternities

1. Reverence is the greeting of summer; it is
2. Bound, which is truth outside of
   Matter, truth in thrall of antimatter
3. Convergence is the ball of fiber rolling you towards three eternities
3a The one which 
       lies low, the
3b One which hides from the line of sun, and
3c One which is you/asking
   Me deciding/