DEVOTION

THE SELF is dear to all. From fondest love,
devotion, flowing like a stream of purest oil,
Our Sage knows Self within as God above.

His child, after hard and persistent toil,
still sees the Sage apart from Self, yet melts
weak reason to find faith in Sage alone.

The golden flowing stream of love smelts
dark dross, his heart's desire, becomes his own.

The one who attaches form to Holy Name
in time transcends the image, just the same.

With devotion ripe, hearing Truth complete,
the blossom on the bough, flowers Self replete.

The fool who prays for selfish end desired,
fulfilment never finds, then he begins
to love for sake of happiness, God inspired.

This feeling, being granted, yet remains
In love with that One, the true, unceasing,
and sprouts the lotus of white devotion,
on azure lake, its root in depth increasing.

Within earth's vessel to guide us o’er the ocean
of strife, allow soul to unfold, as Self of sky,
the One all wise, unlidded, all seeing Eye