Fearless Joy Poetry

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Mother Tree Sau


This dawn, I bow to you Mother Tree Sau!
What vastness, what poise, what depth, what wisdom.
What selfless grandity!

Are you not the grand deputy of Mother Divine?
Oh, are you not Mother herself,
humiliating human mind in each corner of the planet?

Are you not Love itself, infinite-bound?
Rooted in no thing, branching into everything?

Season fell. You reflected its beauty in perfection.
An owl came. Your love changed not.
An owl went. Your love unchanged.
A vulture came. Your loving embrace unchanged.

Did you count their feathers?
Did you ask the bird’s origin?
Did you hide a branch?
Did you save the best for last?
Did you say I offer myself only on weekdays?
Did you not listen to their tunes?
Were you lost in thoughts of lost fruits? departed lovers?
Were you counting your years?
Longing for the perfect spring to come at last?

Did you lose sight of your Being to the flashes of light and shadow?
Were you perchance forgetful, some day, of your force of life? love?
Maybe another palm could give you fresher leaves?
Did you deny the existence of Sun? Sky?
Perhaps you were unsure?

Was your gaze ever lowered from the Sun?
Salutations forgotten to better dreams?
Did you protest the grotesque winds of time in rage?
File a petition for seasons?
Did you part to find your self in a land of better scents?
Did you wish for summer in snow?
A fall breeze in summer’s scorching sun?

Did you keep count of daily visitors?
Pale away in loneliness?
Did you not shine brighter of greatness in seclusion?
Was sky uninviting one afternoon?

Did that day come when perfection was too much? uninteresting?
Did you have to take a day to work your darkness?
Did an unfortunate work of circumstance,
not prevent you from reaching your perfect Self?

April 22, 2015


 

Divine Dive

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Nothing’s sweeter in this world
than the moment you realize
the divine process has begun.

The one which
will finally cease
the millions of lifetimes
of pointless cycles of delusional living,
in false desires.

The moment you realize
that the little setbacks
and occasional emotional gases,
can never touch
this divine process.

You have dived
the divine dive.

That you,
blissfully,
won’t stop the wailing.

Indifferent to any pity worldly flare,
you cry,
for the cosmic Mother
to come and pick you up
out of the four mundane dimensions.

That the cosmic consciousness
is yours.
Your inevitable, divine birthright.

It is yours,
in this very lifetime,
should you choose
to stay swimming
in the divine dive.

October 7, 2016

“In the hall of life, decorated with mountains, cataracts, and wild scenery, I have played long. When tired of play, each time I cried for Thee, Thou didst drop to me, through the window of my desire, new dolls of fame, friends, prosperity — to quiet me. Now, this time, Divine Mother, I will play the naughty baby. I will sob unceasingly. No more toys of earthly pleasures shall stop my cries. O Divine Mother, Thou wouldst best come soon, or I will wake all creation with my cries. All Thy sleeping children will wake and join me in a chorus of wails. Forsake the busy-ness of the housework of Thy creation! I demand attention. I demand Thee, and not playthings!”

Whispers from Eternity,
Paramhansa Yogananda


 

Dear Mother

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Dear Mother,

I will never know You enough;
see You enough;
hear You enough;
feel You enough;
touch You enough;
taste You enough;
kiss You enough;
love You enough.

Mother,
how could it be,
as Master taught,
that You are closer to me,
than my own thoughts,
my own feeling and emotions,
my body,
and my breath,
my speech,
no thinner veil ever existed in the cosmos,
yet You remain hidden for millions in lifetimes?

How You break the bounds of all patience, Mother!
Standing silently, lovingly, infinitely,
closer to me than one atom’s length,
waiting for me to utter the word of adoration,
not towards Your reflection in the outer world,
but to Your own invisible glorious Self,
within my own heart!

Self fulfilling Self!
Self in bliss of Self!

Dear Mother,
who speaks no human tongue,
but only whispers on the altar of silence,
in the inner and outer nature’s symphony,
How shall l ever know You?

I did not know Your love,
that September day,
when You did bend the rules of Your own play,
and showed me the tender ways of human love,
though I had myself neglected to know my part.

And I did not know the boundlessness of Your love,
that morning after I had uttered the words
“In life I am fulfilled”
You did take my heart away,
to let my abundant tears wash away
the abundant traces of ignorance,
to make me know how sad it is indeed,
to cage in the boundless sweet fountain of my heart,
to none but one of Your souls,
one drop in the ocean which is You, my Mother,
to awaken me,
to my own higher divine abode.

And I did not know Your love,
when a short month after,
You did bring me to the doorsteps
of my sweet Master,
whispering in my ears
Your tender Mother’s voice,
“You are not but near, my child!”

And I did not know the depths of Your love,
when not many days thus,
You answered my many a night’s prayer invocations,
to see both our footsteps so clearly,
on track towards Your eternal glory,
sparkle by sparkle,
enlightening both our separated hearts.
What more have I ever asked of You?
What more can I ever ask of You?

O eternal joy!
My Mother divine,
I do not know Your love.

Expand me ever open,
until I am no more, Mother,
but You.

April 4, 2016


 

Sweet Master


I had had a vague remembrance

of some measure of self worth.
Yet had been digging under the rubbles
of a wrong self.
Beneath the clutter of personal vice and virtue,
I carved out
none but disappointment and emptiness.
And I was ready to call this life
a wash.

Yet…
“from the depths of slumber”
you lifted my shattered wings.
Whispering a sacred melody of realization
to my tired ears,
you brought back lost memories of past walks
alongside your sweet self,
and pointed to me,
yet again,
the Self worth living for.

Sweet Master of mine,
my eternal source
into our Mother Divine,
I bow,
with joy and tears,
at your holy feet.

I melt,
with deep remembrance,
in your cosmic arms.

With the fresh enthusiasm of a little boy,
I smile.
Every now and then,
I look up fondly at your vibrant face.
And at other times I gaze ahead,
stupefied by the cosmic view in sight.

Hold,
my beloved,
with an ever stronger grip,
my hand around yours,
Walk me towards vast vistas of endlessness.

Carry us on,
Premavatar Yogananda.

My beautiful Master,
I am eternally yours.

March 16, 2016


 

Don’t Go on


Don’t go chasing God,

if you haven’t learned living happy.

Or run miles chasing happiness,
while joy is where you stand still.

Don’t rack up your wish list,
while freedom lives in dropping it all.

Or dwell nirvana vs. samadhi,
if kindness is what you need to learn.

Don’t go on preaching,
if you haven’t been walking.

Or go judging others,
while what you see is in you.

Don’t go worrying into the horizon,
when what’s in front is what you should see.

Or fret over missteps in front,
where horizon is where should your gaze be.

Don’t get stuck in the chambers of that mind,
while your heart is the gem to be unlocked.

Or seek answers from the books and experts,
while your guide is your whisper within.

Don’t go out looking for love,
if you love not yourself.

Or go out looking to love,
if you love not yourself.

Don’t go back locking yourself in ego’s cage,
if you have already tasted free flying.

Or reminisce your swims in the pond,
if you already heard the call of the ocean.

Don’t go out changing the world,
if you haven’t changed yourself.

Don’t go on living,
if you haven’t yet died.

Don’t go on dying,
if you have yet to live.

February 21, 2016


 

My Heart

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My Heart

My Heart…
it has been a while,
since I melted in your embrace,
you in mine.

When the soothing “hum” of union,
of souls merging,
is gently heard,
within and without.

Invisible sparkles,
momentarily letting their presence known.

Not in thought, or body, or by the creative force.
On a plane unseen,
vibrations unsourced.

How beautifully you speak of Mother Divine,
in the true tune of the NOW.

Not in words.
In your serene smile,
sweetness eternal.

Permeating infinity-bound,
Spirit’s word of
Love: we are One!

I do not grieve…
I do not want you…
I do not wish for you…
I do not call you…
I do not need you…

But I,
blissfully,
miss you.

My Heart.

Embracing you.
Always.

May 12, 2015


 

When My Mother Comes


Once an enchanted night,

when perhaps for the first time,
you uttered a sentence,
not carefully crafted by the scheming mind,
but softly whispered by the heart itself:
“How sweet You are, Mother!”

And then Mother came!

So thin,
this veil,
just behind which Mother lovingly awaits.
Yet a million lifetimes
you did not care to know
what’s hiding there!

But what is time, past, future, success or regret,
in that sweet timeless instance,
when Mother comes?

When my Mother comes,
that infinite unconditional love
defines itself inside.

A warm buzzing sensation,
centered at the heart,
starts to permeate every cell in the body.
The atoms within no longer
murmur of mere matter,
and reveal themselves
as expanding light energy.

Streams of tear
begin flowing sweetly.
No muscle ventures the slightest movement.
The mind, at last,
finds the true color of stillness.

The sweet embraces of a thousand beloved friends,
past and present,
free from earthly rubble,
are summoned all at once,
perceived at the deepest core of my being.

No more missing no one!
I am with all!
I am all!

Every second from millions of past lifetimes,
along with their felt elations and miseries,
all become sacred then.

My dear,
you observed the rules of harmony,
ventured in heroic acts of kindness and service,
and sat in hours of intense meditation,
and alas!
Divine Mother did not reveal Herself.

But with your single earnest call of love,
She comes!

Call on Her.
Mother is here!

December 21, 2015


 

Awake in Mother


Fear,

no more shall I fear!
I will live in your joy only, Mother.
Fearless joy!

Why fear,
when a trillion mothers’ loving caresses
cannot match the warmth of your omnipresent embrace?

Fret,
no more for me!
I will live in your sweet calmness only, Mother.
Why fret, when Your omniscience
has delicately seen my whole journey through,
and has lovingly arranged my upward steps into Your eternal glory?
And if this narrow sight cannot see the trace of your unconditional infinite love,
in every circumstance,
what of it?
No more can this limited mind fool me!

Sadness,
no more shall I let sorrow wash me over.
And if, once, it took a surprise visit into this garb,
I will chant your sweet name, Mother,
into my inner eye,
and remind this mind and heart,
that I am not but your joy, your love, your light, your power, your sound, your wisdom, your peace and calm.
Can a pity blow touch the sky itself?

Sleep,
no more shall I sleep in my waking!
I will smilingly call out Your traces
below the rubble of all seeming,
all colors and shades of your play.

Hearing the call of my sweet Master,
I will awake.
I am awake,
in my Mother.
And I shall echo his call,
to all my sisters and brothers,
through eternity.

November 24, 2015


Come Sacred Tears


Come, my sacred tears. Come!

How long shall I long for thy healing, empowering grace?

Come,
pour forth,
and lift my loneliness into soaring,
amidst the cloudless skies of freedom.

Lift my sadness
into compassion for all beings.

Change my unwelcome moods of smallness,
into an earnest zeal to serve others.

Permeate the deepest chambers of my brain,
and channel up all my thoughts
into a ceaseless stream,
molten awe and wonder,
for the one infinite Beloved.

Transmute all I feel,
to become fearless joy,
buzzing from a warm remembrance
of Her timeless presence,
at the heart of each atom.

Wash away from this temple
all layers of forgetfulness,
every stain of ego-thought,
rashes of past tendencies.

With thy potent elixir,
make my unruly mind,
realize its transgressions,
and,
at last,
surrender into sweet silence.

Purify my heart.
Make it drop petty personal plans.
Let it drink from the glorious fountain
of one universal beat.

Make this wave
of body, mind, and soul,
holy again,
so that it may dissolve back
into Her endless ocean
of ever existing,
ever conscious,
ever new bliss.

Come,
I await thee,
unworldly tears!

Inject thy whisper of God,
into this mortal frame,
and make alive,
once more,
the immortal wave within!

October 19, 2015


 

Fear of Visible


Many,

inches from one another,
are so far apart.
And some, oceans, perhaps constellations apart,
are yet together.

Many,
drowned in possessions,
long to see an unpretentious smile,
while, the children of war,
forgetting the growling of hunger,
and pains of the heart,
often find themselves in bliss of Being.

Many
spend a lifetime,
in quest of a beautiful face,
yet souls get bored with one another,
in the outer expressions,
within hours,
and only seek to tune in
to one’s inner impressions.

Many,
taking great scientific pains,
uncovering the mysteries of the cosmos,
discovering inconceivable mastery, calculations, and purpose,
both in the infinite and the infinitesimal,
yet when asked of the purpose of man,
simply uphold “to die.”
Why be a slave to this visible world?
this illusory confinement?
this spectacular mine craft?
Why place trust in it?
Why fear the visible?

This is a dream world,
the great sages have oft said.
It is to entertain,
and to teach.
Never a destination.

And my dear one,
you may hear this tiding,
and jolt and fret,
take it as a sad predicament,
taking away all precious things
you have come to love, and seek,
in this world.

They are so, my precious one,
as the seductive beauty of the moon light,
appearing and disappearing
in the skies of night and day,
stealing our hearts and minds in its glory.

Yet moon rays are found to be,
but pale reflections of an ever-shining, infinitely brighter star,
our sun!

And so it is,
as we pale in turning our eyes away,
in fear of losing the sight of the night light,
while the sun so patiently awaits
our awakening to her.

Rejoice!
The seeming world
is never a destination.
Yet the eternal destination,
never confined by space or time,
can be reached today, in you!

August 31, 2015


 

Dear Heart


Dear heart,

I will never know you enough;
see you enough;
hear you enough;
feel you enough;
taste you enough;
touch you enough;
love you enough.

You are so elusive,
that as I sat down to write this letter,
a matter of you alone,
and uttered in all sincerity,
my mind murmured in my ears,
as it always has:
“let me handle this one for you.”

So this time, this one time,
I rebelled,
and closed the lid:
Maybe another time…

A warm soothing sensation,
from my own lost depths,
sounded its confirmation.
Dear heart,

How shall l know you,
whose gentle whispers,
under the landfill of wants,
further distorted by an imaginative mind,
my own and my surrounding’s,
are like wing-flaps of a hummingbird,
under the battle cries of a thousand cannons?

Yet,
once in a long while,
your thrilling beats
do conquer through the thick veil,
sweetly reminding me:
“You are in Mother’s hands.”
A smile then
does sit on my inner appearance.

I loved you,
even if for seconds,
that festive day,
when I left the busy familiar crowd,
and as soon I set off alone,
roaming along the coast,
you sang the sweet track of liberation,
reminding me:
“Closer to Home you are
on the lonely road,
than in the comfortable nest of your loving clan.

And I loved you,
that afternoon,
of my earlier days,
when I,
for the first time,
felt on my face
the intoxicating breeze of pure love,
through your own sensing and reassurance!

And I hated you,
when not past a few hours thus,
your counsel upset my expectation of love,
declaring:
“Transient are the dances of the Spirit.”
Dear heart,

who,
they say,
have taken home
somewhere in the vicinity of my chest
(yet no X-ray vision will
ever admit your throbs),

you are Mother’s gift to me,
a piece of Her own infinite, omniscient bosom.

My heart,
My own,
I know that I have
long neglected your glorious existence,
let alone abide by your guidance,
blinded by the deceiving fashion
of modernity and intellectualism.

Precious heart,
Let me find my attunement to Mother,
through yourself.
Only yourself.

Take me Home.
July 6, 2015


 

Forgive Me


Divine Mother of all hearts,

Forgive me.
For I have, once more, sinned.

Fell again in the chasm of my ignorance,
to your omnipresent love,
everlasting,
ever-changing beauty.

Take me again
in your warm vibrant embrace.
Tell me once more:
“You are my stupid child,
My own.
I will love you eternally.”

Let my tears,
uncontrollably summoned from the depth of your embrace,
gush down my being,
washing away the lifelong debris of mind miseries.

Forgive me,
if your sun shone bright that summer day,
lighting the life fountain of tall evergreens,
against a backdrop of vast blue skies,
and the air singing the melody of one eternal Love,
while I sat alone,
in my dark chamber of gloom,
pondering the chances of brighter days,
resurrected from the far soils of past or future.

Forgive me mother.

Forgive me,
for that day in the coffee shop,
when I passed my seconds,
fretting why I am not in place
of these young lovers telling, in laughter, mad tales of wonder,
while the blind lady,
was toiling joyfully to take each slow step,
through the perfect dark mysteries of a street sidewalk.

Forgive me mother,
for I have sinned,
under the closest affectionate gaze
of a luminous sun within myself.

Forgive me,
if my eyes have often than not,
been utterly blind
to your love’s light,
whether shone direct from a wondrous divine ray,
or through the hearts of your others:

in the toils of my mother’s joyfully prepared meal,
through the silent sacrifices of unlived dreams of a father,
in the tearful prayers of a kin,
or in the service of past sages,
giving their souls for the upliftment of the forthcoming flock.

Forsake me not, Mother.

Tell me the tale, again,
of that day
when I came
from Your own infinite womb.

I am lost again, mother.

Astray, inviting, even forcing, my fellow sisters and brothers
to my disastrous pretensions,
bewildered interpretations of Your Truth.

Yet,
take these Mother,
once more,
with Your infinite grace,
as wailings of a lost infant,
tearfully calling for his mom.

Will you take me again in your arms, Mother?

June 24, 2015


 

Sat-Chit-Ananda


And so it is.

Migratory birds do both.
Come and go.
Now you know.

But tell me this, traveler.

This part of you which was touched by your beloved,
can that ever come or go?
sleep or die?
pale or darken?
rise or fall?
perspire, decay, or mutate?

That part of your beloved which touched your heart,
can that ever come or go?
move or rest?
appear or vanish?
laugh or cry?
walk, talk, digest, or tickle?
be or not be?

Or is That
only sighted,
as rarely as it is,
in the ever still, ever infinite, ever eternal?

And if you, dear one,
forgive me for saying,
in the beginning had only the acquaintance of your beloved’s corpse,
would have your heart
melted in the melody of its song?

But you did made acquaintance with what animates that flesh.
And your heart did melt in the melody of its song.
Then why blink at the displacement of a fleshly shell?

The sweet invisible dance of love goes on,
gently,
indifferently.
With or without your audience.

Rejoice traveler.
Behold the tune of that
which the great sage declared:

ever existing,
ever conscious,
ever new Joy.

June 15, 2015


 

Curriculum Vitae


I was none.
And I was one.
Then You brought me here.
I was happy.

You gave me a mind,
gradually making me unaware.
I lost myself.

“Look how happy they are.”
“Achieve,” You said.
I did.

Your deputy of despair,
was the first one to come congratulate me.
“Look how happy you are,”
he said, mocking me in the face.

“There has been an oversight,” You declared.
“For what is achievement,
without a companion to share?”

You brought forth countless images of love,
purer than the clouds,
rawer than honey,
before my eyes.
“Poor you.”

I threw myself,
as a determined goat in a bazaar,
trying to ask,
in a tongue I did not speak,
of a thing I did not know.
They seemed to respond:
“It is out of stock.”

Years passed.
I now knew,
there is more for a goat to achieve.

So one day,
I left the bazaar,
and sought to become
a Doctor of Capriology.

And one afternoon,
as I was daydreaming
of being honored as goat laureate,

a gentle hand, ran through my beards.
“I found you,” she said.
“How sweet Being can be,”
I thought to myself.

I thanked You for the grace.
You replied: “You are not with her.”
I admired Your sense of humor.

Blessed days.
Gentle nights.

“East wind has come,”
one morning she had written,
on a note by my pillow.
She was not there.
Never have I seen,
a paper or a corpse so heavy.

Anguish.
Anger.
Numbness.
Anger.
Pain.
Numbness.
Stillness.
Slowness.

Now.
Stillness was sweet.

So one night Your gentle voice consoled me:
“You are never without her.”
“She never without you.”

It was sound.
For how could two hearts,
oceans apart,
be warmed on the same hour?

Inward bound.

Gradually,
You unraveled to me,
the mystery of Love,
in the form of many trees.

Do they not all speak of one Light,
in their varied expression of perfection?
Do we not all speak of one light,
in our painful wailing for the lost abode?

“Must You have played the human game with me?”
“I have not done so, my child,”
You replied.
“For you have never been.”

May 28, 2015


 

The Whisper


There is a whisper in you,

a whisper from eternity.
Deep within you,
yet not of you.

It longs to tell you secrets
of a life unrealized,
mountains unseen.
Sweet memories
of a distant future.

Patiently loving,
silently waiting,
for you to finally say:
“I am here.”
“I listen.”
Who has time
for listening, for being?

Jobs to do.
Degrees to obtain.
Centuried knowledge to acquire.
So many self-help books to read.
friends’ advice to seek.
models to pursue.

Too many thoughts of importance,
urgently lined up for attention,
in a mind too important to rest.

Do you not realize,
no one has time to be? to listen?


 

To Tell You That I Love You

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I’ve always had a feeling
that my stay on earth
in this life
will not be long…

I want to tell you to forgive me.

To forgive me,
for the times
I’ve spent with you,
with an absent mind,
not fully engrossed
in your radiant existence,
here and now.

I want to tell you that I love you.

Not because you loved me,
or let me love you.
Not because you kissed me,
or allowed me to kiss you,
whether you remember it or not.

Not because you gave me gifts,
or cooked for me,
or stayed by my bedside in the hospital,
or walked me to the bathroom,
or cried heroically in my defense,
whether you remember it or not.

Not because you held my hand,
when I had fallen.
or when you befriended me,
when I was bullied by others,
or because you bullied me,
teaching me of my strength within.

Not because you mocked me,
in front of others,
whether you remember it or not,
to train me to stand for myself,
and relate to and lift other souls,
when they face trials of their own.

Not because you showed me
the ways of sweetness,
of love,
of kindness,
of piety,
of self-discipline,
of friendship,
or friendliness…

I love you,
because of the unchanging flame of God,
which you carry within you,
whether you remember it or not.

Yes, Gurudeva said:

“Always have I loved Thee!
Ever shall I love Thee!
Thee Alone.
Thee Alone.”

December 3, 2016


 

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