Thursday, 30 July 2009


The laser beam of finely honed attention
Dives inward, with breath and thought retention,
Searching for the source of ‘phantom me’.
It cuts through the sheaths and veils we see
Of habits, thought forms and selfish will,
Formed over many life time’s dreams, so ill.
The Pear Fisher finds nothing on the floor
Of his deep interior ocean bed, no more.
Then one splendid day, mind drops into heart,
He touches ego, and it falls apart.
Crash, crash, it topples, shakes, and then drops down.
Identification’s been severed at its crown.
Open heart surgery has been performed,
The errant soul no longer quakes, deformed.

Wednesday, 29 July 2009



The emancipating mystery of Grace,
Adorns our sacred Gurus’ shining face.
His piercing eyes blaze forth in mighty gaze,
To free devotees from their mundane maze.
Let’s praise our Guru with all our Hearts,
Thanking him for that Grace his love imparts!


“Let them kiss your tender lotus feet,
Or with venom, your violent body beat;
In the end it’s more or less the same,
You need be unaffected by praise or blame!”
If soul can achieve this arduous feat,
You’ve almost reached your goal, complete!


Hark, the true folly is that of the cat,
Crouching low by a creamy milky pan:
Poised to drink from this sweet delicious vat,
But he leaps at a fly on the wall! Can
This be likened to mans’ monkey mind?
Instead of imbibing nectarine Grace,
We jump at worldly pleasure, only to fall
Flat in the mire, on a down trodden face!


The water jug is a symbol that’s pure,
Simplicity and firmness to be sure.
Nectar flows from this crystal, like His Grace;
He pours it on that ego it shall efface.
This cleansing, loving stream of immortality,
Grants all the virtues of immutability.


We gaze at Your splendid full moon so bright,
It beams a cool and gracious light,
A reflection from Your most powerful Sun;
It is Your Crescent Jewel, oh splendid One!

Earth’s Your shining emerald pendant there,
You sport her on Your matted locks of hair,
We note your vastness through and through,
You are another name for Self, that’s True,

As is God, and Heart, for All is One complete.
When mind surrenders at Your lotus feet
It becomes like the Moon at noon for You,
Still and harmless, silent in your sky of blue.


Bhagavan! Your blessed feet so gently tread
On the ruby lotus petals of your lovers' minds;
Yet you pierced the iron door of the dread
Lord of Death, who'll one day strike each head
In this bad dream of the weary deaf and blind.
My brain ponders on your ways, but it's hard to find
The answer, to which my tired soul needs to be led.
Reveal Thy sacred feet within my sight, unwind

This twisted knot, before alas I too must fly;
And be born again in darkest ignorance,
To cry once more in this vale of tears and sigh.
I wail, before I die, grant me a blessed chance
To seize hold of your bejeweled holy feet.


Life weaves fine flowers to bless our tomb,
On that mournful day when we’ll meet our doom;
Yet we buy many vibrant and fragrant blooms
To decorate and glorify our living rooms.
They grace Church altars and paint the scene
Of shape and colour our gardens lush and green.
On summer days when bright and sunny
They feed the bees who make us honey.

The mystery behind God’s gift of flowers
Is food for meditation in the mid-night hours.

Tuesday, 28 July 2009


God, source of creation, is impartial like the growth of one’s beard,
Personal yet impersonal, The Prime Parodoxer, ever a feared;
Each morning, carefully scissored, the fuzz is kept neatly in trim,
Hair falls on floor, like time past, best swept up, memory is dim.

Philosophy rattles like gambler’s dice in the box of the mind,
Striving to know the why and the how, like a fox hard to find
Yet stalked by the hounds of heaven, he hasn’t much of a chance,
Mind hypnotised by God, is led a merry puppetry dance,
Piped by Pan to a wilful tune of necessary circumstance.
So let go of tyrant mind as advised in Eastern Buddhist Zen,
Apperception, out of the blue, will come, not knowing when.

The puppets strive to comprehend Life’s enigmatic mystery,
Philosophy, physics, theology, sex and history.
All play their pre-programmed, pre-ordained, pre-scripted part,
From driving a cart, to creating exquisite works called art.
What a threat to arrogant, egotistic, imagined, self esteem!
So “sing merrily, merrily, row the boat, life is but a dream.”
It’s enough to make poor blighted soul, shriek a primeval scream.

Truth can’t ever be adequately explained in words or told,
Truth is ‘what is’, so it’s full acceptance, we wholeheartedly hold.
Every thought is awkwardly like a cripple, clumsily uttered,
Every tortuous concept, foolishly, stupidly stuttered;
Half baked truths, false belief systems, lazily, loutishly muttered.

At best they’re menus, sign posts, labels or maps to point the way
To understanding. But then comes obsessive seeking night and day,
To achieve an enlightened blissful state which cannot be achieved,
Except by the grace of God, then full comprehension is perceived,
Free of all those cumbersome ideas, once mistakenly believed.

Now vain Narcissus has gone, egotistic ‘me’ has taken leave,
Mind has fully surrendered, thrown in the towel, nought left to grieve.
Self Realisation springs clearly from wells of silence way down deep,
Calmly tranquil at peace as in the blissful sheath of dreamless sleep.
Stillness prevails, I know, ‘I Am That I Am’, all conflicts cease,
Mind and body are steeped in the blessedness of harmonious peace.

Monday, 27 July 2009


Poor modern Adam, so sadly forlorn,
The tread-mill of life has worn down his soul;
Sometimes he wished he’d never been born,
He yearns for a way to make himself whole.

Like a traveller lost in a bleak desert place,
Blinded by sense-storms with savourless food,
He begs for water, crying out for grace,
He prays to discover the source of the Good.

Entrapped like a wasp on a jammed window pane,
He drones up and down, in search of the light,
Until falling exhausted, worn out by the strain,
He lies flat on his back, with no help in sight.

Through self surrender and intensive yearning
Answer comes from God’s bright flame, ever burning.

In Adam’s slumbering mind arose a dream,
A warm compelling voice, a father’s call,
Saying “don’t weep!”, and then a brighter gleam
Of light, unveils a scene which does enthral.

It was an orient land. On reddish earth,
The Sage sits smiling with firm and tender gaze,
Saying “I’ll help you, dear child, find rebirth!”
His look is steady, his eyes are ablaze.

It was as if some summer rains did fall
On his arid, parched and hard baked clay,
When Adam stirred from sleep, he did recall
This dream, the radiant dawn of life’s new day.

His prayer’s been answered, way down deep,
Refreshed his soul awakes from torpid sleep.

Adam heard within his heart, the Sage ask “why?”
Speaking from silence, his voice, so soft and clear,
“Ask yourself the greatest question ‘who am I?’
You aren’t just a body, insentient thing of fear;

But Divine, a holy spark of sacred fire!
Quest within, search for that hidden flame,
Dive deep inside your Heart, enquire!
Until you find that ONE without a name!”

Adam felt free, his soul had found release,
Joyful calm and ease enwrapped his heart,
He now felt One, at home in perfect peace,
Losing the past, to carve a fresh new start.

My the message of his dream, our hope renew,
Go seek your Self within! Know ‘That’ is true!

Sunday, 26 July 2009


There’s a huge loom of Time, in duration;
Born of Infinity, from a consummation
With Life, which has never been void of time,
While Sun and Moon as shuttle upward climb.

By weaving to and fro as night and day,
A splendid pageant of coloured display,
Strung on the warp and weft of cosmic unity.
The back of this embroidered tapestry

Is monochrome, derived from that formless One.
It’s face is multihued, radiant as the Sun,
Its tones reflected from archetypal light,
All magically absorbed, an equalled sight.

Only what’s permitted by an unseen hand,
Appears as this moving panoramic band;
A rainbow painting of the whole wide world,
Brushed vertically: each single thread is whirled

Without the dimmest dint of dull duality;
Bright Light, unique to Self, sheer Reality!
Coated with golden fleece and angel wool,
Dyed in the deepest vat of Destiny’s pool.

So does this sacred cloth, woven in Love,
Quarrel with its weaver who reigns above?
Wrapped in his Joseph cloak at rainbow’s end,
Eternal pilgrim ever loves his Mighty Friend!

Saturday, 25 July 2009


Sage Moses, desert wandering, found a fearsome fire,
A bush of prickly gorse crackled, then hissed with ire,
It was being devoured by sheets of white hot flame,
When out of that effulgence, there spoke the Holy Name!

Fearless Moses enquired, as it was his right to do,
“Mystic voice speaking from the fire, tell me, who are you?”
A loud reply thundered, hearken son, ”I AM THAT I AM!”
Such was the revelation, uttered by that Holy Name.

King David composed a psalm for his lyric harp to play,
On one inspired and bright sabbath summer day.
He raised his voice and sang “Commune with your own heart
On thy bed, lie still and know that I am God.” so he imparted.

So the Sages of the Bible and Advaita meet,
Let us pause and pay reverence to their holy feet.

Friday, 24 July 2009


All beings yearn to be happy, always;
Happiness without a whinge of sorrow,
To enjoy a life of carefree days,
Taking no tinge of thought for tomorrow.
When restless mind’s at peace in deep sleep,
What glimpse of worry, grief or despair?
So happiness lies therein, buried down deep.
How to find this treasure, awake, aware?
Ask the question, who am I, and from where?
That’s the essential means of the holy task,
Ending ego’s ‘me’ and ‘my’, that’s there.
No pleasure endures in things of this Earth,
Enquire within, who basks behind the mask?
To regain that Selfhood we lost at birth.

To regain that Selfhood we lost at birth,
First consider well the cinema screen,
To understand that, gains merit and worth.
On the screen there appears a tense drama,
The film begins and we enjoy the show.
Fire, flood, sex, death, a vast panorama;
The screen’s unchanging, the film’s a shadow.
The simile teaches, strange as it may be,
That both seer and seen make up the mind.
On Consciousness as screen, all action’s based.
To know that's true, is the clue to be free,
A guiding beacon that’s so rare to find.
That’s the Sage wisdom by which we are graced.

That’s the Sage wisdom by which we are graced,
We’re taught the silver screen as metaphor.
Seated in theatre stalls, now we're placed,
To proceed with clarity and enquire more.
The bright theatre lamp is the light supreme,
Illuminating both actors and the scene.
We see stage and the play only by light,
Yet when action ends, the lamp stays bright.
Just as woven cloth and its colour white
Are never, ever perceived as apart,
So when mind and light both unite,
They form ego, knotted and bound in the heart.
Of all that we’ve ever learned since birth,
That’s the highest wisdom proclaimed on Earth.

That’s the highest wisdom proclaimed on Earth,
How to make mind to merge in its source?
Only by enquiring with all of one’s force,
The central question regarding its birth,
The ultimate scrutiny of ‘Who Am I’?
As thoughts froth forth like foam on the ocean,
They’ll all be slain by such introspection,
Unveiling the Self, the lost inward eye.
Pearls lay buried on the deep ocean floor,
Attracting divers to search for this goal.
Holding their breath they plunge to the core
Of the ocean bed, for the pearl oyster’s soul.
To gain this gem in the heart’s sacred place,
Just seek for the source where mind is based.

Just seek for the source where mind is based.
You travel alone on a mystery train;
By this metaphor we’re comfortably placed,
To travel by providence free from pain.
So put all your heavy luggage on the rack,
Only a fool carries it on his head!
Be glad, accept the predestined track,
Rest quietly, safe at home on your bed!
Surrender in joyful jubilation!
Surrender utterly to God’s almighty will,
Surrender with total resignation,
Surrender knowing all will be well,
Surrender whole heartedly with one accord,
Take safe refuge in the all loving Lord!

Take safe refuge in the all loving Lord!
For life’s a dream and sleeping dreams are short,
The waking dream is long; both stem from thought.
The Real is beyond both this waking and sleep.
The sword of enquiry slays dream states deep,
So reaching their substratum, numinous,
The state of pure consciousness, Self luminous!
Blissfully aware, yet awake in sleep.
As the cockerel crows ready to sup,
At the roseate dawn of first morning light,
Awareness pours into the near empty cup,
Granting a moment’s taste of Self insight.
This light is the eye that forever sees,
Who can be known by enquiring ‘who frees?’

Who can be known by enquiring ‘who frees?’
The Master who lives in the cave of the heart,
Not separate from one’s Self, being the start,
Of the final search from bond to release.
The Sage appears when the soul is ready,
With strong gaze of grace he says “be aware
That God and his wisdom are already there!”
He acts as a brake to make the mind steady,
While mercy flows freely in sunshine and air,
Hindered only by our being unready.
If you come to him, meekly with an empty cup,
His grace is then bound to fill it up.
The Master’s glance is the grace of the Lord,
He cuts you free with his mighty sword.

He cuts you free with his mighty sword,
To guide you surely, on the upward way
To Self Realisation, your real birthday!
Consummation of ‘That’, the Sage’s word,
Is “rest in the Self”, which is always heard.
In him, place great trust and affirm, say yea
As certainty! Our Real Self blazes away,
Ever surrendered to the almighty Lord,
Revealing great peace for Realisation’s sake,
Renouncing belief that a rope is a snake.
The seeker surely becomes ‘the great find’,
His own blissful being, the summit in kind,
This great Teaching eternally frees,
One with the Self, as the Absolute sees.

One with the Self, as the Absolute sees,
He answers all our prayers and our pleas;
We must first enter that dear sacred part,
Not the fleshy pump that throbs on the left,
But the sacred core: by being skillful and deft,
We find that on the right; is the real Heart!
By harnessing breath, being adept and bright,
We dive with great skill and all of our might,.
There dwelling in depths of our true Heart’s cave,
Lives the shining ‘Unity’ blazing as Self,
Pulsation of I-I, where all shadows cease.
So fixing gaze there, finally, off we stave,
Perverted, wandering, demonic mind elf,
Returning to ‘Self’, our birthright of peace.

Returning to ‘Self’, our birthright of peace,
Is knowing that all this vile body performs
Was predestined before it ever took form.
So from stress, despair and fretting, pray cease!
Our freedom dwells in our natural State,
Renouncing the ‘I Am The Doer’ notion,
Detached from fruit of form’s puppet motion,
Yet grace can avert even predestined fate!
Be like a skilled actor on this stage of strife!
Play with goodwill the part you’ve been given,
No matter how strangely you find you are driven,
Knowing who, truly you are, in this life.
Until fate pulls down the final curtain,
Know you’re Self not body, know that is certain!

Know you’re Self not body, know that is certain!
In this Realisation, there’s no cause to leave home,
You can strive in the city, there’s no need to roam.
To change style of life would all be in vain,
For mind remains with you, until it is slain.
Demonic ghost ego, source and fabric of thought
Create body and world, whereby we are caught.
Change of place, never changed the way we behave,
Whether living at home, in a forest or cave.
There are two ways by which our bonds may be freed:
Either ask “to whom is this strange fate decreed?”
Or surrender false ‘me’ to be then stricken down,
So praying intensely for ‘my will’ to cease,
We leave it to grace, to grant us release.

We leave it to grace, to grant us release.
God will do this through the gaze of his Sage,
He sends down His messenger for every age,
To those who yearn and pray for great peace.
The Realised Sage lives on here and now,
Without confusing the Self with the mind.
Humble, compassionate, loving and kind,
Wisely profound, as his way clearly shows.
He steers the vessel of firm devotees,
Fulfilling everyone’s spiritual need.
In deep silence, he sits, with perfect ease,
To awaken those, whom his teaching well heed.
Graciously, his great glance of initiation,
Drives the mind inwards, to Self Realisation!

Driving the mind inwards, to Self Realisation,
He grants safe passage through life’s stormy ocean;
What frail soul will ever be excluded
From the presence of the holy Supreme?
No matter how depraved or deluded,
His mercy never ends, and will always redeem,
Raising the soul from the depth of depression,
To free one from the ‘I am this body’ obsession.
From passions that churn desire and aversion,
His fair breeze wafts clear equanimity;
Enmeshed no more in worldly adversity,
Never perturbed by praise nor foul enmity,
We learn that there’s the greatest giving
In knowing all are Self, and so truly living.

In knowing all are Self, and so truly living,
We thank the great Sage who is ever giving.
We praise the Lord, who leads us to his feet,
His gracious gaze is eternally sweet,
Without ceasing, he’s forever reviving,
He grants that freedom, our real surviving.
He severs the grip of bondage’s chains,
He frees the soul, where confusion reigns,
He bestows both compassion and deep peace,
He sends out his grace to grant us release.
He teaches the truth that Consciousness is all,
And Self Enquiry to raise us up from our fall.
We praise God Almighty whom is ever living,
This crown of my verses is our thanksgiving!

To regain that Selfhood we lost from birth,
That’s the Sage wisdom by which we are graced,
That's the highest wisdom proclaimed on Earth.
Just seek for the source where mind is based.
Take refuge in the all loving Lord,
Who can be known by enquiring ‘who frees?’
He cuts you loose with his mighty sword,
One with the Self, as the Absolute sees.
Returning to Self, our birthright of peace,
Know you’re Self, not body, know that is certain!
We leave it to grace, to grant us release.
He drives the mind inwards, to Self Realisation,
In knowing all are Self, and so truly living,
This crown of my verses is our thanksgiving!

Thursday, 23 July 2009


Almighty God has strolled out to day,
Every bird chants in sacred splendour,
Every tendril towards Him yearns,
Each pearl of morning dew shines on clay,
Reflecting the ocean of God's grandeur.
Dark veils have lifted, Sun beams burn
To reveal the glory of such divine array.

Sometimes lurking behind a cloud of grey,
Mischievous sunshine sulkily hides,
But I have glimpsed Him in the lily bed,
Where the hem of His robe is on display.
Skywards His Sun chariot swiftly rides,
Until it rests in flame of brilliant red.
The curtain of Night drops down on day.

Look who just flew into my room this way!
In the tiny form of a food moth flying,
Searching for the light of a candle flame
To be consumed, and on some other day,
Evolve, even if now it looks like dying,
To be reborn and grow nearer to that Name.
That's all I need to say about His play.

Wednesday, 22 July 2009


Specks of dust dance in sunshine's beam,
If each represents a galactic world,
The holy light is bright Brahman Supreme,
Impersonal; our Earth is thus impearled.
A personal ray is sent, by God to suit;
An enneagram from the Solar Absolute.

Tuesday, 21 July 2009


Into His quiver we're quickly packed by God,
Great granter of grace to our gritty clod.
He hone's us arrow sharp to hit the mark.
He enters, soul, marrow, bone, and fires His spark,
Dormant in our hearts, then fans it into flame.
Such is the power and glory of His Sacred Name!


My faithful friend wherever I may go,
You hold my hand with love, always so.
Your firm support helps me walk life's way,
You bear all my burdens every day.
You lend meaning to this fool's words; I'm told
You've made me fearless, courageous and bold.
The whole of mankind has become my keeper,
They're kith and kin of this poor sleeper.
Your bliss is company both within and without
I bask in the Sun of your love, hear me shout!

A free versification of Tukaram's Gatha 2000

Sunday, 19 July 2009



Gather attention into a gigantic gaze,
Probe inwards through the murky mental haze,
Find right path along that mysterious maze
Of thoughts; 'till one of these amazing days,
By God's great grace, our inner flame shall blaze.

Then back to its Source, our 'I' we'll trace:
Many the methods, many the ways
To Self Enquire. That's the cryptic game God plays
'Till we wake up from life's hypnotic glaze,
Then our ship of life sails home to halcyon days.


On the ocean shore of an alienated yet aspiring soul,
Wild thoughts stampede like a herd of impeded horses,
They frolic on the foaming rocks, believing they are whole.
Mare and stallion jostle in this sport on racing courses.

Sometimes the stormy waters become serene and calm,
Mirroring narcissistic life as in a magic pool,
Soon all lies quiet, without any trace of harm,
Even for my dinghy which transports this crazy fool.

When a sense storm breaks I flee to my cabin down below,
And batten down the hatches waiting for the clouds above
And rainbow entertainment, to swiftly fly and go.
I pray for the coming of Love's snow white turtle dove.

She flies by, bearing an olive branch of emerald green,
I stand and wait aboard my craft, patient, silent, still.
I've fled the rough tempest of mind's stricken struggling scene,
My dinghy's reached God's peaceful beach on quite another shore.

Saturday, 18 July 2009


August summer from awesome meadow sings,
I never tire from commune with my Soul,
In silent wood's enchanted shades, where broad
Shafts of sunlight fall in full accord
Gilding leaves of green. The dusty lane's my goal,
Which ends where the higher path begins.
The air, the fair horizon, crystal springs,
Rosy lips of dawn, which one yearns to kiss
This hem of heaven's robe in joyful bliss.

Come! let's gaze at gleaming stars so chaste
They shine on Mother Earth through veils with haste.
Let pine trees imparting scented breath
Waft you along to life away from death,
To sapphire streams and fields of emerald green.
Let Nature's radiance reveal her sheen
On the solemn beauty of your furrowed brow.
True love latent in your heart, here and now,
Will ever grace this sacred, monumental hour.

Friday, 17 July 2009


Plying poesy's pottery wheel, I praise
Great Mother, white swan gliding on peaceful lake so deep,
Her spreading wings of splendid light divinely raised
To soar over mountain peaks while poor mind's asleep.

Who can hasten rosy dawn of awakening light?
Can fathom an ocean where passing time drowns?
Move an atom of Earth but our Mother of might?
Whisper words of wisdom to heretic towns?

Bestowing her grace like a bride of the Moon,
Or sapphire blue tinted bright lotus lily.
Pure beauty in her Godhead biding verily
In silence, a blaze of the Sun as the One.

Gracious our Glorious Queen, Mother Divine,
Her unconditional Love is ever mine.

Thursday, 16 July 2009


Bethrothed to the bride of Self, pure as sky,
When golden sun is shining, all cloud clearing,
With bright effulgent rays, resistance searing,
Unveiling his unblinking all-seeing eye.

Jewel of gems, a fathomless fecund mine,
Lustrous, as a lotus flowers in full bloom,
Void of thought, as Earth eclipses Moon,
Gently speaking, his gaze of grace doth shine.

At peace, unperplexed, no more asking why?
Untempted by the teasings of fleshly sights,
Merciless to mad maurauding conceit of I,
Impervious to desire, jealousy or frights.

Abiding in the heart, in peaceful joy,
Blazing like the Sun, all darkness he'll destroy.

Wednesday, 15 July 2009


"All is very well, unfolding as it should, so trust that Great Power which knows the way." Robert Adams

With pure devotion, when hearing Truth Supreme,
Sweet blossoms on the tree, bloom as Self replete.
If time impedes its flowering, 'cross the stream,
Time will stop, and usher in Love's dower complete.

The fool who prays for selfish ends desired,
Seeks mental fulfillment, not finding, starts
To yearn for real happiness, by God inspired.
This aspiration granted stays still at heart .

In love with the Holy One, the soul unceasing,
Glides like the pure white swan of deep devotion
On darkling lake; divings into heart increasing.
With God's barque to guide us over worldly ocean
The Soul suffers to unfold, as Self, clear sky,
Of Awareness, all wise, unlidded, all seeing Eye.

Tuesday, 14 July 2009


"Through love the earthly form soars heavenward,
The mountain dances nimbly like a bird." Rumi

THE SELF is dear to all! In joyful, fondest fecund love,
Unbroken devotion flows fluent, a stream of golden oil.
The Sage knows Self within, is same as mighty God above.
His precious child after hard, zealous and earnest toil,
Sees the Blessed Sage as Lord and all separation melts
In adoration, now he's aware of his own Pure Self alone.
His heart's white hot fire of love and sheer devotion smelts
Immature impurity, to make that Immortal Friend his very own.

An ignorant cynical soul feeling somewhat separate,
Desires freedom's liberation from worldly strife and ill,
For ever believing that he and God are set apart.
Yet he soon succeeds, on total surrender to His holy will.
The one who loves and truly worships the Holy Name,
Lives alone with Self, in perfect Oneness both are the same.

Monday, 13 July 2009


THE SOUL that's free, bathing in Being,
Untroubled by scribbled script or worried world
Her transcendent root is 'inward seeing',
As a blue lotus glows sapphire like unfurled,
Freed from vexatious life while alive, sees Earth
At sea in space and time, peaceful, empearled.
She whose pure breath's in darkling arms of death,
Basks in pure Being at One with her birth.

God is clad in light; each one who's free
May mother bright pearls by destroying
Binding bonds. Reborn in grace to liberty,
Oh best of souls, in all, equality enjoying,
To the ignorant alone, differences arise,
Great Soul in Self abiding receives the prize.

Sunday, 12 July 2009


"Fools steeped in ignorance,
wise in their own conceit
and regarding themselves as learned,
go about staggering like blind men
led by the blind." Kathopanishad

THE SAGE at peace in Self Realised state,
From seeking Truth, has completely ceased.
His wisdom, the sum of knowledge, now released,
Effortlessly free, reaches a peak so great,
That powers arise through fortune of his fate.
Now settled in the Self he plays as pleases,
Among the many, his awesome ways radiate,
Fanned by mountain ranges sweetest breezes.

Ignorant fools think him devoid of power,
Humbly biding in his lighthouse tower.
They fail to see, blindly admiring fame;
And miss his inward lamp lit by sacred flame.
Knowledge and Power when wedded as the One
Fall on all, blazing like the mid day Sun.

Saturday, 11 July 2009


Lord, who clears the locust cloud of needless fears,
Let your light dispel these dragon flies from mine!
Knowledge and ignorance must part like oil and wine,
Failing to mix in the waxless ears of he who hears.

Pilgrims perform their penitence with perfect ease,
Sloth will not survive in their sacred state benign,
Constant practice dwells inside their hearts at peace,
Bringing calm from moment to moment in quick release.

Sage shines his torch as brilliant light. For Seers,
Unsought, their brave efforts ripen into powers.
Through divine sport our glowing rainbow world appears,
In which to play, and wile away life's dreaming hours.

If destiny decrees, the bright effulgence of the Sage,
Shines, a blazing beacon to enlighten our shaded age.

Friday, 10 July 2009


Scorch latent ancient habits for soul's dear sake,
Like iron melts in a red hot ball of fire;
Ego when questing for Self, dies on the pyre.
Freedom has no sense of 'doer' left to fake,
Once more to tread life's weary wheel. Awake!
In Self, no darkening shadow can arise,
No doubt disturbs the deep, nor sleep surprise;
For nought but Self's at play on a sunlit lake.

For such a one, sad fate now disappears,
For he within the Sun, has no more fears.
'I am that I am', lives within his Being,
The lake widening, serene state supeme
Is boundless; he's found the knot's undoing.
He rests at peace beyond life's troubled dream.

Thursday, 9 July 2009


Glued to gross gravitational pull of sense,
Obsessd by wastrel ways of wasteful thought,
We find tenacious tendencies so dense;
Mind in endless diversion's kept. Sage taught,
Tether to breath this errant mind; thus wrought
Around this lusty ox, raise a stout sure fence,
To graze the kine at source; in present tense
Be attentively adept at mind spectator sport.

Stay calm, watch flow of vital force endure,
Then tranquility may simply come to be.
If this fails the yoke of yoga shows the way,
Exhale the forceful breath to start the play,
Inhale, then quietly wait, patiently to see
Like a fountain, channels of life turn pure.

Wednesday, 8 July 2009


Awareness flows from heart to body whole,
Impressions of the world so wide arise;
Lost in these vain allurements, the sad soul
Trapped in 'cage imaginaire' becomes unwise.
In the white hot flame of purest light
The circling egomoth's confused, and dies.
Scenes engraved by power of mind and sight,
Lose meaning when erased by fast closed eyes.

Self abidance, one pointed, knowing all,
Rejoices in the absence of the mind;
This whole wide world on body's sense does fall
Like rainbow prism yet Presence in the Self we find;
The universe entire and multi-formed is lost,
Peace and bliss are found, meditation paid the cost.

Tuesday, 7 July 2009


Will following codes of righteousness aid
Our earnest effort, 'till freedom's gained?
Good conduct, helps one's aim, but when attained
It fades, that day one's Pilgrim Way's been made.

With prayer and enquiry, pray be unafraid,
Skill in sacred chant if well maintained,
Unceasing like great ocean waves sustained,
Will merge with Soul's Being when well played.

Like one strikes a gong, so sincere good will
When filled with heartfelt love, rings on high.
So put the question enquiring Who am I?
With all one's strength and mighty skill.

That question will complete the Holy Task
Which each earnest pilgrim must surely ask.

Monday, 6 July 2009


In the grave world of grey shadows named Life,
What's the sacred task for our humanity?
For a soul maturing who loves Divinity,
On Life's Great Tree grow fruit transcending strife.
Midst worldly folk, we walk on a razor's edge
To gain Self's innermost affinity.
Enquiry and devotion form the hedge
That guards, 'til we reach blissful infinity.

Be strong and withdraw all errant thought
From worldly snares agitating monkey mind.
Depend on Self and simply ask as taught
'Who am I?' in every task we find.
Our True Nature then shines free of support,
In every act, that One alone is sought!

Sunday, 5 July 2009


A lamp is lit to burn in my spirit's hearth,
I rest in rosy red of dawn with God who's One.
For at my core he shines, blazing like the Sun.
Let sandal wood breathe and perfume Earth,
Letting petty 'me' go, to start new birth.

The art of diving deep within, is my own
Earnest practise, solemnly bowing down
My ashen head at His lotus feet, to know
The oil in my camphor lamp* shall flow.

The quest itself's derived from fear of death,
At edge of brink to that far off ocean depth,
I catch a glimpse of light from down below,
And sink within,letting wan world float away.
As old day fades, my flame shall always stay!

*Camphor burnt in votive lamps leaves no residue

Saturday, 4 July 2009


Deep in the sacred shrine of the heart cave,
Dwells the glorious formlessness of Self:
One pointed, shines as I; not demon elf
Of ego, but subtle space, our soul to save
Through questing mind. Dive inwardly deep!
Let vital breath and thought quiesce to keep
Self abidance. These words the great Guru gave.

Who perceives and wakes from sleep to see
The essence of this verse, uttered by the Sage,
Will through his life be unassailed by doubt.
The precious pearl of Self shall set him free
From slavery to that banal world without.
Stay in Self by any way we can engage,
For gates to open; this is the master key.

Friday, 3 July 2009


The fullness of his silence that reigns supreme,
Over loves and hatreds, beds of reeds that bind
The mire and marsh of gross meandering mind,
Immutably voids the wayward waking dream
Of teeming life, such solid stuff it seems!
How to discern when stupidly groping blind
The folly befalling our benighted kind?
In a pool of deep silence we glimpse a gleam.

The One at peace within, without a doubt,
Is known to dwell in silence that's divine,
Where sounds no clash of cymbals 'I' or 'mine'.
The silent eye centred in the storm looks out
From stillness, sacred gaze; the world's a sign,
A play of light on water, dancing round about.

Thursday, 2 July 2009


When giving up attachment-stuck to things,
Like ivy clinging to my prison wall-
I hear a loud inner clarion call
'Rest in the flame of Self' my phoenix sings!

That's your Natural State' the trumpet rings!
'Dive deep in your sacred sphere of Being.
A light unto one's self is real seeing
I Am That I Am'.Fire bird sprouts her wings.

She soars into the dove-cote of my heart,
Freed from her cage, the attractions of sense.
I discover now one's natural art,
Enquire, and Be the Self, in joyful ease.

Become a free illumined One, from whence
we strayed, and now return in perfect peace.

Wednesday, 1 July 2009


The voracious veracity of sacred tomes alone,
Will not reveal Self Realisation, sought for at the end.
A message sent to aspirants my Guru now does send,
"Dive deep to seek your precious pearl, make it your very own!
If wise and goodly truthful teaching seeds are finely sown,
Your golden granary of knowledge will grow, to feed you friend,
At summer's harvest time your poor broken heart will truly mend,
And that one auspicious book, your own Self, be surely known!"

To meditate, stay awake, strongly in your natural state,
And when long abidance in this harrowed field's held firm,
Abundantly you'll reap the miracle of God's hidden germ.
You'll free your wounded breast from bands of iron bound fate,
Now wise in what is really wise and absolutely true,
By finding that dear Self, whom all the time's been you!