FRIENDS ON THE MOUNTAIN PATH

1. MOTHER DIVINE

Our Mother Divine lifts her sacred cup,
She pours pellucid, precious, potent balm,
Curing, healing, lifting pilgrim’s spirit up.

With power of Love, perfect, peaceful, calm,
She holds poor palsied pilgrim in her palm,
And plies him with pure nectar, honey sweet,

So pouring from her silver grail a potion warm,
To soothe all cares and salve his blistered feet,
With Love’s ointment: oh, perfect Paraclete!

2. WHITE KNIGHT

Feeling his fiery steed between his knees,
He watches restless spirit’s breathing flow;
The stallion settles and he reins with ease.

Now tamed, he canters where he wants to go,
To Himalayan summits crowned with snow,
A pure white splendour glowing bright in light,

Above dark turmoil of dormant worlds below.
He arrives at awesome Selfhood, blazing bright,
Sun burst of splendour, ends soul’s dark night.

Now, White Knight hoists on high his pointed lance,
To joust with Death, a fierce Titanic tilt.
As he mounts his steed in martial prance

He strikes hard at dragon, up to the hilt,
To end all dark sorrow, fear and guilt.
Free from sense of doership, an act replete

With holy knowledge, a temple truly built
To worship God, he kneels to kiss the feet
Of Death’s slayer; such a sacred blessed feat.

3. GOD LOVE SOLDIER

Wielding his spear of sharpest concentration,
The God-love soldier plunges its silver blade,
With mighty force of lucid sheer attention,

Deep into the dragon’s heart. Unafraid,
Delivering the coup de grace, vile ego’s laid!
Well honed with dispassionate discrimination,

Whetted with ardent zeal, no wavering shade
Of cowardice, his steel, with keen anticipation,
Slays his wayward mind of Self alienation.

4. ARCHER

He twangs the bow of Self-Enquiry, to enter
A sharp arrow of clearly aimed insight,
Zinging to the bull’s eye of Truth at centre.

Dispelling all doubts in error free flight,
He finds Love, a beckoning beacon light,
Glowing within his inner cave of heart.

Such marksmanship is God-Warriors right,
To win this vision, the true martial art,
Holy war, waged ‘til soul and body part.

5. AQUARIUS

Water bearer draws deep from Rachel’s well,
A jar of truth for pilgrim’s thirst to slake.
Raising the cup he hears the temple bell

Which calls him home to pray and penance make
To God, whom he adores for His own dear sake
Alone, and free from lust for selfish boon.

His love showers rain of grace, and fills the lake
Where sails the white swan of devotion, soon
To glow beneath the golden harvest Moon.

6. PRIMORDIAL SAGE

Primordial Sage, in silence, takes his seat,
Emitting waves of God-like love to those
Who sit surrendered at his lotus feet.

His mystic vision’s sure, and truly knows
The sure destruction of all disciples’ woes,
That halt the climb to Self’s most blissful place.

His merciful love abundantly flows,
Ever granting pilgrim power to trace
His own Self ablaze, in a sea of grace.

7. BOLD PILGRIM

So bold pilgrim ascends the mountain path,
His friends are unconditional faith and trust.
Gentle compassion rains, a healing bath

Of grace, cleansing his feet of mundane dust,
Freeing him from greed, ego, anger, lust.
Fearless he walks, awakened, to his goal,

Unattached, discriminating, and so just,
‘Til attaining consummation with the Whole,
He finds, hidden deep at heart, Eternal Soul!



__._,_.___

AGNI'S FIRE

AGNI'S FIRE flames in the hearth of my heart,
Its smoke has fragrance that shall impart
His message of awakening to my soul.
Arise, 'know your Real Self, make yourself whole!
Enquire into the source of your thought of I,
This is the practice to make your mind die,
Then surrender all at my lotus feet,
I will grant you the Grace to make you complete!'

AGNI

Agni's fire flames in my heart and eyes,
He'll burn away all dark fears and sighs.
Agni's the messenger of God on Earth
Come to light our dark path to soul's rebirth.
All hail Agni to whom the Rishi's sang,
The halls of the dead with laughter rang.

BEAUTY AND THE ROSE

I wish to write a poem of beauty and love,
A sonnet of homage for our mighty Lord above.
Beauty is the doorway to feel the Divine,
A red rose at sunset is perfect and sublime;
It's perfume fills the air and freshens Being,
To see the rose in bloom is a great gift of seeing.
It reminds us 'God is Love', that's unconditional,
We praise Him with fervent worship reverential.

A worried man walked along a hurried street,
Lost in dreamlike thought, he saw nothing but his feet,
Until he passed a florist and glimpsed a blushing rose,
He felt, God bears my fears, he knows, he surely knows.
His burden became much lighter and he strolled along,
Whistling quietly to himself a sweet devotional song

CHECKMATE

Bad King Ego stands with his haughty band
Ready to wage the chequered game of fate,
Queen Truth waits with army straight at hand,
Battle's to be staged before it gets too late.

Black King wore a blindfold as dark as night
His mob is ready to fight and mate the Queen,
White Queen shone brightly like morning light,
She gathers in her might and surveys the battle scene.

She makes first move and sends a centre pawn
To reign o'er the board and commence attack,
The Black King blocked it with regal scorn,
White Queen sent a Knight to lead her pack.

The game progressed 'til locked in fight,
Queen gained the upper hand and he resigned,
It was the triumph over wrong by right
Defeating the wandering perverted mind.

If there's a moral to this chequered tale,
Win or lose just enjoy the royal game,
Persistence and study will never fail,
For no thought force ever goes in vain.

AJ

THE CAMPHOR LAMP

My lamp is lit to glow in my spirit's hearth,
I rest at rosey red of dawn with God who's One,
For at my core He shines, blazing like the Sun.
Let sandal wood burn and perfume Mother Earth,

Giving me gigantic strength to start new birth.
The art of diving deep into the heart, is my own
Precious practice, and solemnly bowing down
My old ashen head at His lotus feet, to know

The oil in my camphor lamp will always flow.
The Quest itself derives from fear of death;
At edge of brink to that murky ocean depth,
I catch a glimpse of light from down below,

And sink within, letting sad world float away;
As old day fades, my flame shall always stay.
Camphor burnt in votive lamps leaves no residue,
My devotion flows faithfully like oil does too.

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

Egotism is persistent, never letting itself down,
It comes to mock one's sacred state of silence still,
With worldly words and wiles which make one grimly frown,
And instead of Self Knowledge taunts with mischievous ill.

Only frequent Self Enquiry and faithful Devotion,
Will vanquish this impudent, demonic mental elf,
And rid one of the noxious 'I am the body' notion
,Which veils True Knowledge of the Real Immortal Self.

I pray to the Supreme Sat Guru dwelling in my Heart,
That he'll graciously accept the surrender of my mind,
Then all knowing divine wisdom he shall soon impart
And my own beloved True Nature, I will swiftly find!

MY PRAYER TO AGNI

Blaze red hot oh Agni, Lord of my salvation,
Saviour between my soul and my God.
Destroy the sins of every nation,
In your furnace, which you light with a nod.
Purify me fiercely with your fiery rod,
Release me from all care and tribulation
Save me from anguish, hell and damnation,
Exercise mercy on this poor helpless clod.

A man went to light his garden fire
To burn all dead leaves of November,
He tossed them as if on a funeral pyre,
'Til they were destroyed down to an ember.
Agni will destroy all my dead leaves of thought,
To free me for the moksha I've deeply sought.

NATARAJAN

Grand symphony of life, music of the spheres,
Unfolds like Shiva's dance, stamping on my breast;
Aware, one feels a martial drumming beat, and hears
Joyful rhythm that cheers the heart, and I am blest.

His footprints leave a lesson on my book of time,
They make a mark on my inconscient wall,
To learn from, so that soul may swiftly climb,
To conquer life's mysterious enigmatic All.

I ascend on eagle's wings into the great unknown,
Lord Shiva steers my flight through bliss and pain,
In this paradoxical way I'm stretched and grown,
Yet his merciful grace soon soothes my nervous pain.

Let's give thanks and praise for Lord Shiva's cosmic dance,
Grounding arrogant ego into chalky powdered dust,
It's predetermined, nothing's left to random chance,
It's choreographed, infinitely wise, precise and just.

ARUNACHALA

Arunachala is a sacred mount,
Rosy red, colour of the rising dawn
Emblem of awakening on the morn
Of Self Realisation, the fount
Of Bhagavan's wisdom that we count
As wisest among all Gurus born.
He destroys man's sleep like a thunder storm,
And his latent habits, apart are torn.

Those tendencies obscure the Sacred Self,
Like dark rain clouds hide the blazing Sun.
His Self Enquiry slays this demon elf
Of ego, and restores sad soul back to the One.
Let us give thanks to Mount Arunachala,
For sheltering the life of great Sage Ramana.

THE HOLY TASK

We have a Holy Task to do! Krishna
In the Gita says, in His defiant way.
We mustn't dream away the time of day,
But strive to remove each dark vasana
Which clouds Self Realisation of Chit Ananda.
So abandon self deceptive mental play
With concepts of awakening, without the way
Of Enquiry, taught by Bhagavan Ramana!

There was a man who'd read a book or two
On Advaita, and thought he understood,
Cleverly he gave satsang to all who
Would pay him to make him feel so good.
They parked like cars in an empty space,
And never drove on, to Self's immortal place.

SEVEN SONNETS FROM THE HEART

THRESHOLD OF BEAUTY

Deep down in my Spiritual Heart,
Dwells my gracious inner Sat-Guru,
Bhagavan Ramana, for God are You.
You came in bodily form to start
My journey back to Self, and did impart
Sage Non-Dual Teaching, simple, clear and true;
Self Enquiry once more You proclaimed anew.

Red roses grow in garden emerald green,
Shining 'neath a sapphire sky of blue,
Show Beauty is a Threshold for my love for You,
She invokes grateful feelings of praise serene,
Towards You as my Teacher who's Supreme,
And comes to wake me up, now that time is due.

2

ALMOND TREE

Bhagavan told us in his sage words,
"All the buds on the almond tree, one day
Will wake up from sleep". We gratefully say
Thank God, now I'm unlike the cattle herd,
A dumb beast, prey to
every outward
Pull of thought and whim which comes my way.
I know my Self, and understand the play
Of life is to make one whole, in Thy regard.

At the point of Death, God our Mighty Lord
Preordains the next life for the very best,
To spiritually grow, unlike the rest,
Who suffer 'til they comprehend His word,
And obey His Teachings which they've heard
From Him, whether they be from East or West.

3

BEAUTY'S AMELIORATION

Beauty's an amiable amelioration
From vain vicissitudes of life,
Problems are ever ruthlessly rife,
The soul needs peace and relaxation,
She gazes at gardens that grace our nation,
He perhaps finds comfort from his cosy wife.
We walk on the edge of a well sharpened knife,
We bow to our Master in supreme oblation.

The good wife will share his pilgrimage
And her soul is the Beauty that he seeks,
Like Dante's Beatrice, she grants him peace.
This is the
dawning of the Aquarian Age,
Advaita Vedanta is now all of the rage,
Which takes you to weary soul's blest release.

4

GOD'S WORDS

Bhagavan delivers the word of God to man,
"Self Enquiry and Surrender is my way,
Ask yourself 'Who Am I? each time of day!
Don't forget your inner Self to hold and scan,
That, my children, is God's almighty plan,
This way to Liberation is what I say,
Will bring you freedom from suffering fray
With foolish ones; away from Self they ran".

Everything is perfect so it seems,
Preordained in the only way it can,
Whether it be joyful, mad or wan,
The many worlds are sham and only dreams,
Yet through the dark and gloom we glimpse some gleams,
I followed His Truth, and a new life began.

5

PEACOCK BLUE

The colour of Lord Shiva's throat is blue,
As he swallowed planet Earth's poisoned sin,
To save mankind from damnation. Therein
Lies the
reason it looks peacock blue to you.
Our duty is to pay Lord Shiva fullest due,
Surrender at his lotus feet wherein,
Salvation follows for our kith and kin,
If we worship Him as truly true.

Skanda,Shva's son road a peacock too
To slay the demon ego Taraka,
By the weapon of Advaita Vedanta
Now at hand for all earnest sadhaks, who
Follow his teachings through and through,
To end the dreaded dream of dire samsara.

6

DIVINE MERCY

God in His mercy sends an Avatar,
To redeem fallen souls on planet Earth,
Such a One was granted bodily birth,
As Sri Bhagavan Maharshi Ramana,
To save us from dreaded dire samsara.
Make us Oh Lord to be of righteous worth,
To receive his guidance and then obey
His Surrender and Self Enquiry Sadhana.

Then in due course we shall reach Moksha,
Be free of suffering from this earthly fray,
To be born again on the brighter new day
Of glorious,
blessed Sat Chit Ananda.
He'll evolve humanity in his unique way,
Such is the role of Sri Bhagavan Ramana!

7

GURU OF GURUS

Supreme Guru of Guru's, he's well named,
Dwelling on sacred Arunanchala,
Lived Sri Bhagavan Maharshi Ramana.
As a Great World Teacher he's duly famed
Recalcritant egos he quickly tamed,
To free Devotees from dread samsara,
By teaching them his Atma Vichara.
If we ignore him, then 'who' is blamed?

A man came to his Ashram one fine day,
And asked the question 'what to do'?
An answer came 'enquire who are you?'
The fool ignored the Sage and walked away.
He spent many more life times on this Earth,
Before awakening to his souls rebirth.

IN PRAISE OF SRI BHAGAVAN RAMANA MAHARSHI

BOUNDLESS BLISS flooded the Heart of Beauteous Mother Earth,
A Sage came as Ramana to save us, he took a human birth.

Because the Lord of Mercy whose days on Arunachala Hill
Led a life of glory that ever shines and clears away all ill,
By his Great Realisation of that Everlasting Truth,
Revealed by Lord Krishna in his Bhagavad Gita forsooth:
Like Dakshinamurti in Samahdi was shown to man by Shiva,
An emblem of silence, revealed to Great Sage Sanaka.

He’s the revered Enlightened Master and gracious guide
Of all learned scholars with Ganapati at his side.
He’s possessed of all the highest virtues known to man,
His RADiant effulgence is manfully clad in body’s plan
Of material sheaths, when weaved together make five in sum.
Behind dark worldly clouds he shines, a BRILLIANT blazing Sun!

He‘s perfect as the ruler over those five senses so unruly,
He sees only merits in others, so clearly and so truly,
He ever abides in the blessed blissfulness of peace,
In his Being, pernicious poisoned passions have long ceased.
He lives only on the free offerings of caring devotees,
He dwells as an ascetic on hill slopes, ever there to please.

His Heart is proof against sharp arrows of carnal desire,
He’s the living embodiment of Lord Agni’s sacred fire!
He’s devoted his days to teaching Knowledge of Jnana,
He’s crossed the stormy ocean of dreaded Samsara.
He uses his hands soft as a lotus to serve as a bowl,
Fear ends for souls taking refuge in Him to make themselves whole.

At his feet, by his intensive and most powerful gaze
His auspicious presence is felt as a fierce fiery blaze.
He crushes the load of devotee’s dark misery to dust,
And scatters it along with latent tendencies of lust.
He’s a safe haven of protection, security and peace,
His brightness of light chases away sorrow with ease.

His virtues are mirrored in rocks, streams and leaves,
His wise truthful words calm any soul who grieves.
He’s never over elated by praise nor depressed by blame.
He’s foremost among all Sages, world famous his name!
He’s relentlessly cut off the despicable ego-mind,
He’s overthrown all inner enemies that mankind finds,

Greed, anger, lust, jealousy, pride and infatuation.
He’s immersed in a flood of blissful sublimation,
He’s climbed the peak of mountainous transcendental height,
Through his own vision he’s seen Divinity’s dazzling light,
Well-nigh impossible for poor suffering ignorant others,
He’s free from arrogance; he feels all men are brothers.

In ancient times he pierced Krauncha Hill like Skanda,
To forego joys of being fondled by his mother Uma,
That he might be reborn in human form as Sri Ramana,
To shatter dense spiritual darkness of Earth’s samsara.
As an ascetic wearing only a clean loin cloth of white,
He rode on the back of a Celestial Peacock, fan-tail so bright.

He’s now descended as a humble soul on dear mother earth,
To reign over the world, a Master unique in human birth.
Salutations to that One who transcends all attributes,
The celibate, with human skills and talents most astute.
The master and slayer of DARK diabolical Taraka,
An emblem of man’s dark ignorance, an arrogant Asura.

There’s no divine peacock that can bear one of his ilk,
No Ganges he can bathe in, no nectar of mother’s milk
From the breasts of Goddess Parvati, no celestial choir
Of vina players to sing and gently wile away each hour.
Oh great pounder of Krauncha Hill! how do you still abide
On sacred heights of Arunachala, evermore to reside?

He’s a God divine but sports only a single face,
He left his fond Mother Parvati’s sacred place.
He doesn’t wield a silver spear in his nimble hand,
He takes human form to deceive this sleeping land,
He hasn’t celestial armies marching for him there,
Enough of this mask by which you bewitch the unaware!

But how will you escape your brother Ganapati’s sight?
Some worship you as best among Realised Rishi’s bright,
Some as a Jnani, Great Guru of Gurus, beyond compare,
Others as an humble ascetic, wise, comely and fair.
But all of them prostrate before your sacred lotus feet,
Yet only two or three see you as Skanda, a God WHO’S complete.

You explained the significance of Aum to Great Lord Brahma,
You spoke to tell Truth to your father, sacred Lord Shiva.
You’ve kindly become the teacher of your elder brother
Ganapati, to whom you’re BELOVED as his mother.
Subrahmanya you’ve outstripped your elders by such merit,
For generations to come, much sage wisdom they’ll inherit!

The seat of honour reserved for those of most worth,
Once enjoyed by Great Sage Vyasa of high noble birth,
Later by dispeller of darkness SAINTLY LORD Shankara,
Now awaits you, the Master Sage, Great Lord Ramana!
Commander in Chief of the Celestial Army’s plan,
You’ve now come to planet Earth embodied as man.

Now when righteousness and religion seem at an end,
When all worlds are driven mad around sanity’s bend,
And wretched scholars have lost sight of Ultimate Truth,
Disputing polemics; when even God’s Existence forsooth
Is disputed, who else can be our safe haven and refuge?
Oh Skanda born on Earth as man, save us from such deluge!

Though dispassion’s crucial, can you withhold your grace replete?
Though effortlessness is desired, must worship of your holy Feet
Be condemned? Though desire’s wholly contemptible for you,
Would that cause you to cease from guarding your Sadhaks true?
Oh Skanda hidden in a handsome body with a human mask,
Why do you still bide your time? I most respectfully ask

Away with empty dispute, discourse and discussion vain,
Righteousness! no longer need you weak or limp so maim,
Bewilderment and confusion will be wiped from the world,
Good shall flourish everywhere and Truth be unfurled!
Because our Lord, foremost of Guru’s, the son of Parvati
Was ONCE incarnate on Earth with his brother Ganapati.

Oh mankind, revere this brother of Ganapati, the Master
Who’s cAme In bodily form for now and for ever after.
The Self, pervading the microcosm and the macrocosm,
Who is behind the souls of all, model of perfect altruism.
Source of the ego in which all weird difference is lost,
Who drags his children to Moksha regardless of cost.

Hail Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi, Universal Master!
Dispeller of misery from this sad world ever after,
Who chases away darkness from his dear devotees,
As Pure Eternal Consciousness ever ready to please,
Abiding in the Heart, blazing bright within and without,
Bereft of the least trace of ignorance, with none left to Doubt.

Self’s the transcendental Truth that’s underlying
The world and beyond, there can be no denying.
Oh Ramana, pray turn your gracious glance my way,
So that I may be eternally blest, forever on this day.
Oh Bhagavan, you’re the JAGADGuru of all mankind,
Your boundless Heart knows no differences, so I find.

Troubled world, egotism and God are now all observed,
As one transcendental Reality by virtue of your word.
The recalcitrant wicked ego has been struck down to die,
I now exist as that One Reality which isn’t apart from ‘I’.
By your Grace our Hearts readily realise the Divine Self,
Hidden within the perverted mind, that vile demonic elf.

Blessedness isn’t a virtue for you, oh PRINCE of Sages!
Its natural in your shining Heart you’ve known for ages,
Oh Spotless Being your form blazes with effulgent light,
Infinite is your penetrating gaze, so brilliant and bright.
Oh Lord your egotistic mind has vanished in your Heart,
You dwell in Eternal Sat Chit Ananda, never to depart!

You’re the acknowledged chief among ascetics severe,
You’ve been deputed to roast Souls for the Lord WHO is near,
You Chop off egos and well season them for tasty food.
I worship and revere you, who does each deed for good.
You pierce through our ignorance dwelling in the heart,
By virtue of your Grace, and piercing glance you will to impart.

You’re beatific, but your poor devotees are of little worth,
Thrown headlong into a sea of uncertain death and rebirth,
Being drowned in their worldly desires without respite,
And falling endlessly exhausted every noon and night.
They reach for the two lily flowers afloat in mid- sea,
And clutch for safety at your lotus feet most earnestly.

Merciful Lord, grant the poor refugees your gaze to save;
You’re so fearless, all powerful, GRAVE, strong and brave.
If unsuckled by his mother, what’s a babe’s sad fate?
Where’s safety for sheep when their good shepherd’s irate?
Where’s help for the soul pitched against God’s mighty wrath?
How will ignorant ones conquer mind, as flame is to moth?

Master! Why not save the devotees pining at your feet?
Perfect peace spreads when you shower nectar so sweet,
By the lucid lunar-like smile that shines on your face,
Your steady gazing eyes grant incomparable grace,
Oh Lord, your pearl of silence is a gift of priceless worth,
It’s unparalleled , oh Bhagavan, on this poor planet Earth.

The light of Parvati shines through your penetrating eyes,
Dispelling ignorant darkness that clouds the mind’s skies.
Your face gleams with the grace and brilliance of Lakshmi,
Your words contain the secretive lore of Goddess Saraswati,
Preceptor of the worlds, Sri Bhagavan Ramana the Great,
How can mere mortals praise the glory of your Realised state?

Good fortune visited the Red Mountain Arunachala,
For having sheltered Great Sages in the past, oh Ramana,
But now has grown unique because you’ve chosen this hill,
Among many sacred places, there for your mission to fulfil.
Boundless bliss has flooded the Heart of BEAUTEOUS Mother Earth,
A Sage came as Ramana to save us, he took a human birth!

ALAN JACOBS
-oOo-
*A free versification of the English prose translation from the Sanskrit, of ‘The Forty Verses in Praise of Sri Ramana by Ganapati Muni’.

THRESHOLD OF BEAUTY

Deep down in my Spiritual Heart,
Dwells my gracious inner Sat-Guru,
Bhagavan Ramana, for God are You.
You came in bodily form to start
My journey back to Self, and did impart
Sage Non-Dual Teaching, simple, clear and true;
Self Enquiry once more You proclaimed anew.

Red roses grow in garden emerald green,
Shining 'neath a sapphire sky of blue,
Show Beauty is a Threshold for my love for You,
She invokes grateful feelings of praise serene,
Towards You as my Teacher who's Supreme,
And comes to wake me up, now that time is due.

SAGE WORDS

Bhagavan delivers the word of God to man,
Self Enquiry and Surrender is his way,
Ask yourself 'Who Am I? each time of day!
You forget your inner Self to hold and scan,
That my children is God's almighty plan,
This way to Liberation is what I say,
Will bring you freedom from suffering fray
Of foolish ones, who away from Self once ran.

Everything is perfect as it seems,
Preordained in the only way it can,
Whether it be joyful, mad or wan.
The many worlds are sham and only dreams,
Yet through the dark and gloom we glimpse some gleams,
I followed His Truth, and a new life began

POINSETTIA

Plant of blazing crimson flaming fire,
Adorns castled homes at Christmas time;
Its tones of eastern dawn are so sublime,
High glowing thoughts 'twill soon inspire.
When filled with God love, our poetic lyre
Hymns praise and worship in metred rhyme,
An essential duty that Soul makes prime,
To reflect His blazing inner pyre.

Once in Mexico a poor orphan child,
Wished to offer Christ a birthday flower,
She raised a prayer so full of power,
A gift to give Lord Jesus meek and mild.
From fields where shrubs and bushes grow quite wild
An angel transformed a weed and saved the hour!

GOLDENROD

Glamorous glowing gracious golden bloom
An emblem of blessing is strong Goldenrod,
She bows down in the breeze to Mighty God,
A glimpse of her disperses worldy gloom,
When cut she'll grace your sacred altar room.
She grows firm and tall from an earthy clod,
The weight of her head makes her gently nod;
A bloom to take on flight from womb to tomb.

Sad pilgrim depressed by unlucky fate
Was garden strolling for consolation;
Engrossed in profoundest contemplation,
He glimpsed a bed of goldenrod so great,
It raised his spirit before it was too late,
He fell into deepest blissful meditation.

BUTTERCUP

Wild golden amber yellow flowering cup,
From which zealous bees their sweet nectar sip.
The bee's an emblem of the spiritual trip,
The brave effort pilgrim needs to wake up
From sleep, and cease to be a suffering pup,
Sniffing at vain pleasure with his greedy lip,
Licking at each juicy bit. We lose our grip
If ego indulges in such poisoned sup.

Child Krishna loved golden butter's subtle taste,
Churned from fresh milk for healthy nourishment.
If we wish to be free from soul's detriment,
Then we must churn the mind with all due haste,
Using Self Enquiry's rod; God's instrument,
To save us from life's painful punishment.

TULIP BUBBLE

Multicoloured marvel for man's leisure,
Oriental, brought by the Dutch Nation,
Who favoured this flowery fascination,
For speculation and spring time pleasure,
Finding exotic blooms as boons of treasure.
Soon they formed a Netherlandish sensation,
Gracing the homes of a whole generation,
Tulip bulbs abundent in ample measure.

Man is hypnotised by novelties and toys,
He values bawdy baubles, hubble bubbles,
Which when pursued are source of troubles,
Just like lighting fireworks by impish boys
Only results in cacophonic noise,
Their refuse ends up as worthless rubble.
Pursuit of Truth is the only real joy,
Which lasts forever, and will never cloy.

PASSION FLOWER

Symbol of Christ's Easter Passion; flower
Of fabulous patterned beauty sublime.
Men have christened her with a name divine,
To commemorate that fateful dreaded hour,
The son of God was crucified by power.
Let us crucify the ego mind, our
Arrogance nailed to a cross is its sign.

When surrender takes place to God inside
Our spiritual heart, ego's death is nigh.
It's time this demon was crucified to die,
So he can no longer play lurk and hide,
Wandering pervertedly from side to side,
To know Heaven's Kingdom within, will then apply.

A POSY OF FLOWERS

BLUEBELL WOOD

I took a walk in nearby Bluebell wood,

A wild flower garden arched by aspen trees,

When sunshine casts its searchlight beam on these,

We're raised to God, the blessed and the Good.

This is the home of Beauty if it's understood;

Art without Her will always cease to please

Nor take Soul back to worship on her knees,

As poetry, music, painting truly should.


A painter came to Bluebell Wood to catch

Its wonder on his canvas in due course;

Try as he might his skill could never match

The magic marvel of Mother Nature's force.

He realised there was a limit to his power

To capture the God-like beauty of that sacred hour.

DAFFODIL

Easter Lily, named by those whose blooms we love,

Golden yellow, surging wild in wood or field,

They open fresh perfumed petals to yield

To sunlight, shining down from high above.

We wait for the sign of the peaceful dove

To save us from Noah’s flood when soul is healed,

And our covenant with God is truly sealed,

Mad demon ego receives his killing shove.


Emblem of all that's good in Christ's Teaching
,
The Easter Lily shines as floral light,

The Christian Way of Love is ever reaching

The hearts of those who for redemption fight.

This flower of Beauty feeds the yearning soul,

Of those who crave salvation, to be made whole.


ROSE GARDEN

In my rose garden warmly rouged by dawn,

There grow white arum lilies shining too,

Pranked with iris, softly clad in blue.

Radiant roses glow crimson like the morn,

I stroll amongst the fountains; in my view

Such Lady Beauty spoke as Being True.

True in the sense that Art is Beauty born,

To waken souls of men to God divine.


My garden was the threshold to that place,

Well enriched by brilliant bright sunshine.

I felt the gentle hand of blessed grace,

That rose garden was truly Highest Art,

A joy that moved me to the depth of heart.


PINK LOTUS

Pink lotus, emblem of Hindu wisdom sage,

Greatest aid to spiritual growth for man.

If one learns their teachings and carefully scan

The practise needed for this Kali Yuga age,

An inner struggle the aspirant must wage.

Pink lotus is rooted in muddy mire, but can

Still open as a bloom of beauty better than

Known by those who're blind to God's Almighty plan.

A soul lived a life of gross indulgence,

But tired of pleasure she turned to learn

Truth necessary for her repentance,

Self Realisation to surely earn.

Her ignorance and sin were fertile ground

To turn within. True wisdom she quickly found.


SUN FLOWER

Radiant floral emblem of my Real Self,

Hiding behind her veil. Try then to find

Her, not mischievous monkey mind,

Nor dark demonic perverted elf,

Avaricious for his material pelf,

Egotistic and spiritually blind,

Ever spinning thoughts to weave and wind,

Piling up more luggage on his mental shelf.

The Great Sun in my Self is not like these,

But the Source of Conscious-Awareness Light

Dispersing dark gloom of sad ignorant night,

God-like, the immortal power that frees

Bound soul from its malevolent disease,

Bringing her back home to new heavenly height.



FORGET-ME-NOT

Pretty petulant petals of brightest blue,

Petty adornment gracing gardens of love,

Emblem of Adoration to our Great God above,

For Remembering Him is right worship true;

Prayer will bring Him ever closer to you,

As Noah's praise, when he saw a snow white dove,

That showed the end of the flood, which drove

Righteousness from Earth, except for a few.


When man falls into a dark ditch too low,

God in his mercy sends His messenger down,

To lift up the level in country and town.

Thus we'll never forget Him, even more so,

Remain loyal as His flock, in order to show

Salvation; when we gain Enlightenment' s crow

FORGET-ME-KNOT

Pretty petulant petals of brightest blue,
Petty adornment gracing gardens of love,
Emblem of Adoration to our Great God above,
For Remembering Him is right worship true;
Prayer will bring Him ever closer to you,
As Noah's praise, when he saw a snow white dove,
That showed the end of that flood, which drove
Righteousness from Earth, except for a few.

When man falls into a dark ditch too low,
God in his mercy sends His messenger down,
To lift up the level in country and town.
Thus we'll never forget Him, even more so,
Remain loyal as His flock, in order to show
Salvation; when we gain Enlightenment's crown.

MIRACLE

GOD strummed on the harp strings of my heart,
Trembling water-music hummed, warbling and wan,
Waiting for the coming of that pure white swan
Of Love, to greet my yearning soul and start
My journey back to Self, whence mind did part,
Severed from her union with the blessed One,
That dwells within, that eternal fiery Sun;
Self Enquiry and Surrender are the needed Art.

Poor pilgrim stumbled on his way back home,
Through thickets and thorns he tumbled,
Overhead clashing clouds roared and rumbled.
Worn out and weary with nowhere to roam,
He prayed to God, 'neath sky's sapphire dome,
A miracle happened and his ego crumbled!

PINK LOTUS

Pink lotus, emblem of Hindu wisdom sage,
Greatest aid to spiritual growth for man.
If one learns their teachings and carefully scan
The practise needed in this Kali Yuga age,
An inner struggle the aspirant must wage.
Pink lotus is rooted in muddy mire, but can
Still open as a bloom of beauty better than
Known by those who're blind to God's Almighty plan.

A soul lived a life of gross indulgence,
But tired of pleasure she turned to learn
Truth necessary for her repentance,
Self Realisation to surely earn.
Her ignorance and sin were fertile ground
To turn within. True wisdom she quickly found.

THREE FLORAL SONNETS

1

BLUEBELL WOOD

I walked a walk in nearby Bluebell wood,
A wild flower garden arched by aspen trees,
When sunshine casts its searchlight beam on these,
We're raised to God, the blessed and the Good.
This is the home of Beauty if it's understood;
Art without Her shall always cease to please
Nor take Soul back to worship on his knees,
As poetry, music, painting truly should.

A painter came to Bluebell Wood to catch
Its wonder on his canvas in due course;
Try as he might his skill could never match
The magic marvel of Mother Nature's force.
He realised there was a limit to his power
To capture the God-like beauty of that sacred hour.

2

DAFFODIL

Easter Lily, named by those whose blooms we love,
Golden yellow, surging wild in wood or field,
They open fresh perfumed petals to yield
To sunlight, shining down from high above.
We wait for the sign of the peaceful dove
To save us from Noah’s flood when soul is healed,
And our covenant with God is truly sealed,
Mad demon ego receives his killing shove.

Emblem of all that's good in Christ's Teaching,
The Easter Lily shines as a floral light,
The Christian Way of Love is ever reaching
The hearts of those who for redemption fight.
This flower of Beauty feeds the yearning soul,
Of those who crave salvation, and be made whole.

3

ROSE GARDEN

In my rose garden warmly rouged by dawn,
There grew white arum lilies shining too,
Pranked with iris, softly clad in blue.
Radiant roses glowed crimson like the morn,
I strolled amongst the fountains. In my view
Such Lady Beauty spoke as Being True.
True in the sense that Art is Beauty born,
To waken souls of men to God divine.

My garden was the threshold to that place,
Well enriched by brilliant bright sunshine.
I felt the gentle hand of blessed grace,
That rose garden was truly Highest Art,
A joy that moved me to the depths of heart.

DAFFODIL

Easter Lily, named by those whose blooms we love,
Golden yellow, surging wild in wood or field,
They open their perfumed petals to yield
To sunlight, shining down from high above.

We wait for the sign of the peaceful dove
To save us from the flood when soul is healed,
And our covenant with God is truly sealed,
And demon ego receives its killing shove.

Emblem of all that's good in Christ's Teaching,
The Easter Lily shines as a floral light,
The Christian way of Truth is ever reaching
The hearts of those who for redemption fight.
This flower of Beauty feeds the yearning soul,
Of those who crave salvation, and be made whole.

ROSE GARDEN

In my rose garden warmly kissed by dawn,
There grew white arum lilies shining too,
Pranked with iris, softly clad in blue.

Radiant roses glowed scarlet like the morn,
I strolled amongst the fountains; in my view
Such Lady Beauty spoke as Being True.

True in the sense that Art is Beauty born,
To waken souls of men to God divine;
That garden was the threshold to that place,
Well enriched by brilliant bright sunshine.

I felt the gentle hand of blessed grace,
That rose garden was truly Highest Art,
A joy that moved me to the depths of heart.

BLUE BELL WOOD

I took a walk in nearby Bluebell wood,
A wild flower garden framed by aspen trees,
When sunlight casts its spotlight beam on these,
We're raised to God, the blessed and the Good.
This is the place of Beauty if it's understood;
Art without Her will always cease to please
Nor take Soul back to order on her kneees,
As poetry, music, painting truly should.

An artist came to Bluebell Wood to catch
Its magic on his canvas in due course;
Try as he might his skill could never match
The wondrous marvel of Mother Nature's force.
He realised there was a limit to his power
To capture such God-like beauty in that hour.

GRATITUDE

Pink apple blossom festoons and showers
Love, amongst ripening orchard flowers,
In summer's gracious golden sunny hours.

Busy humming bees sip the nectar sweet,
And pollinate, so in time, nature treats
Man to fresh juicy fruits to choose and eat.

Such are mother nature's generous gifts,
Body, mind and spirit she gently lifts
To greet the heart, where inspiration shifts

The soul to happy joy and blissful peace.
May such bounteous blessings never cease,
Our gratitude to God will thus increase.

All praise and love to God almighty King,
In thanks for all his grace we gratefully sing!

CHARTRES CATHEDRAL

THE GLORY of God’s Gospel glows with light;
Pilgrim sees growing from green on the ground
A tall temple of stone hewn high on a mound.
Her sculptured craft astounds his purblind sight,
He falls down, surrendered, with all of his might.
He’s awed by the magic charms of her sound,
Angels chant psalms, stained windows shine bright.
It’s New Jerusalem, the City of God re-found.

Each niche tells a legend set in tinted glass,
Radiant rainbow hue, sparkling like dew,
The inward mind knows her message to be true.
Pilgrim feels healed by the visions that pass,
His Soul wakes up, no beam blurs his eye,
Heart’s upraised by her spires, high in the sky.

Her steeples aspire like arrows aimed at God;
Prayers assault her vaults, for heaven’s sought.
The soul’s inflamed to blaze in its earthy clod,
By Saints, who from her oaken pulpit taught.
A medieval miracle, mighty marvel, to behold!
Amazed by the maze on her limestone floor,
Many parables on her painted panes unfold,
We stand in awe before her portal door.

To calmly comprehend the art of Chartres,
Where cryptic Christian chrisms are unveiled.
Start to chart her craft inside your heart.
In such masterly masonry, much is revealed.
Her stained glass windows glow like precious gems,
Showing celestial scenes from which truth doth stem.

Ah Chartres! ‘mystere merveille’, enigmatic book
Of God’s creation, you’re an emblematic sign.
Architectonic is your binding, majestic, divine,
Your pages etched on alchemic glass. So look
For graven keys in carved and buttressed nook.
Christ points the way the saints and martyrs took,
There were miracles, wan water turned to wine,
Wonder of Chartes, may your beauty e'er be mine.

On slabs of limestone lies a cryptic maze
Soul’s riddle, the puzzle in which she’s caught.
Once dancing here, a Master Templar taught
His Masons, the measured steps to freedom’s ways.
In Chartre’s stone arches, clues are given,
Sacred tunes for hymns, wend their way to heaven.

Dig down deeply, dive in one’s Self to find
The Chartres Cathedral inside the inner heart,
The real temple ever bides behind the mind.
Stab the stoney slabs of sleep, and start
To plunge within the cloister well, hold breath
In one’s sanctum sanctorum in the east transept.
Notre Dame de Chartres mirrors the One inside,
The Light Of The World behind the door, doth hide.

So step beyond the Gothic shades, uncover all!
The Kingdom Of Heaven shines within, not out,
Real Chartres shines within one’s heart, so turn about
Into the Self within, where God's Grace doth fall,
Chartres Cathedral, miracle for all to see,
A pilgrimage there may well enlighten thee

IN PRAISE OF SRI RAMANA MAHARSHI

Let’s give thanks to Great Lord Ramana,
For his boundless Grace and Jnana teaching;
He grants silent diksha without vain preaching,
And the precious gift of atma vichara,
His directly liberating, true sadhana.

His eternal presence is close; ever reaching
The hearts of all devotees, so breaching
Mad ego’s fortress of dark avidya.
We feel devotion through our gratitude,
For leading us out of dread samsara;
He bestows full faith, strength and fortitude,
He transmits the power of Arunachala.

Ever our loving guardian and guide,
Deep in our hearts his lotus feet abide.