THE SAGE

The Great Sage, unfathomable, free from fear,
In Heart's fair field stands firm. His solitude
Fulfils the throbbing pulse of Earth's beatitude.
For those asleep, their time and space are dear,
But there's just One Existence for the Seer.
No place remains in His placid plenitude
For shadows 'real' or 'unreal' to occlude,
No more seems the Sun to rise or set, yet's here.
How, feeling the blazing orb playing on a world,
Can He, whose natural state is Self empowered,
Perceiving a precious ring, see ought than gold?
As the blue lotus flowers is his life embowered.
Sage awake, remembers not his worldly dream,
His garb the Self is like a cloak without a seam.

LABURNAM

Lovely Laburnam emblem of golden rain,
A blessed shower of grace that's heaven sent
To each, when errant soul removes the stain
Of worldliness, now set on heaven bent
To search for the hidden source of I,
Buried deep in the Heart but quickly reached
Through Self Enquiry, seeking for how and why
Egotism in its folly, true wisdom breached,
To end up in the waste land of sad samsara.
But thanks to the teaching of Great Lord Ramana,
We're freed from dread cycle of death and birth,
To be restored to Selfhood, our own true worth.
So when we admire the golden Laburnam tree,
We recall the loving grace that's sent by Thee!

Love's harmony lies in the sweet unstruck music,

Heard in the spiritual heart by those whose ears,

Are tuned into this subtle sacred angelic art,

And hear ethereal rhythms from galactic spheres.

There are no words to describe this awesome sound.

Once heard the prison walls of selfishness fall down,

And blissful inner feelings all in unison resound

With holy joy, bestowing love's most precious crown.

A deaf mute deprived of hearing and vocal speech,

Prayed to hear the magic of a chanting human voice.

God in His mercy, which he always grants to each,

Cured his ailment so the poor boy could now rejoice.

The highest form of music to him was then revealed,

By such harmony divine, the blessed lad was healed.

TURNING INWARD

Like the dawn chorus of many carolling birds,
Man's a restless creature composed of many words,
This constant stream of thought's not a blessing but a bane,
They cloud the Sun of Self and leave him sad in shame.
In order to rise up to a higher plane of Being,
He needs cultivate the art of inward seeing,
With attention, srive to find the source of I,
Which ends the verbal torrent made of 'me' and 'my'.
Questioning 'Who Am I?' silences tyrant mind,
And instead of bubbling burble we soon shall find
A flood of joy and bliss flooding from one's heart,
Full of Grace and Love and ever ready to impart
An invocation of Selfhood to his fellow man,
Which only a pure Jnani really truly can.
Such is divine stillness and mystic power,
Which the silent mind brings into perfect flower.
We turn attention inward with all of our might,
Deeply diving down to source and bathe in Light.

SUMMER ROSE

I caught the lustre of a radiant dawn,
Reflected in an august summer rose.
Gold, yellow, orange, ravishing red,
Blended to form the blazing flame of morn.
I held the fiery flower up to my nose,
To sense the fragrance of its perfumed head,
Bewitched by all the colours of that form.
Then I deeply turned my gaze inside,
To see what dwelt there, in my inner soul;
What impression had that rose made on me?
I waited some while, at heart I did abide.
That rose was a pointer to make me whole,
Reflecting that great dawn when I'd be free
And ego mind, in penitential fire, had died .

ARCH USURPER

To claim I am the sole doer all alone,
Is the cardinal crime of woman and man;
Because demon ego's usurped God's throne.
To be free of this grave sin, if we can,
Place monkey mind at Guru's lotus feet,
Then Self Enquire with all one's might.
Soon we'll be purified whole and complete,
Revealing Self, source of God's truth and light.
The Universe rests in Great Brahmic arms,
In joyful bliss of sat chit ananada,
Devotees are blest by Bhagavan's charms,
Inside our hearts dwells Great Lord Ramana.
Let him take over the burden of our life,
This way we end all mental storm and strife.

BROADCAST ON HAY HOUSE RADIO

'Join Steve Taylor and Alan Jacobs for an inspiring look at the connection between poetry and spiritual experience. Steve will read some of his own poems – from his new book The Meaning - and some of his favorites. I shall also be reading some of my own pooems Listeners are invited to share their own favorite poems, or lines.' Monday July 30th, 4-5 pm UK time.on Hay House Radio

DEEP LEAP

Take a deep leap into firm certainty of Faith,
With determined unshakeable fearlessness!
Let mighty mount Arunachala be our shield
Against sense storms of restless monkey mind.
Enjoy wholly untoubled carefree satvic calm,
By handing over our whole fictional burden
Of worry, concern, stress, and fancied anxiety
About our ordained duties and many affairs,
To our Lord of Love and infinite compassion,
Bhagavan Sri Ramana, Self of our own Being,
To whom we've unconditionally surrendered,
Taking sole refuge with worshipful devotion.
Even tribulation is welcomed as for the best!
We practice mind control through Japa of His Name,
And dive into the Heart, questing for the source of 'I',
Full of gratitude for his boundless love and grace.

SOUND ADVICE

Remove that dark black cloud hiding our Sun
Of Self, shining there, that everlasting One.
Best done by following our Master's teaching,
Which is practice, not vague verbal preaching.
Self Enquire! Pose the question 'who am I?'
With persistence to make proud ego die,
And reveal the Self in all its glory,
End yet another dream another story.
Surrender is the devotional way,
Entails yearning for God; one blissful day,
Lay proud ego at the Sat Guru's feet,
Abiding in the Heart, rest there replete.
All that, dear friends, will fare us very well,
And spare us from another life, and yet more hell.

ROSE GARDEN

God's Rose Garden is an emblem of the heart;

Blooms like blood red rubies shine in Sun's bright light,

Fountains play, snow white lilies glow to impart

Sweet perfume permeating this perfect sight.

Our souls are filled with praise and adoration,

In thanks to Thy Mighty Power above,

That created this astounding sensation,

By which the rose garden speaks of Thy love.

Marvelling in wonder at such beauty,

We're impelled to perform our vital duty,

Of awakening from this dire dream of life.

Through bold effort comes our prize for strife,

Grace descends and destroys sad ego minds,

Pilgrims are freed, eternal peace they find.

GRACE

One must always welcome what ever takes place,

Because it's God's will in this sad earthy space.

It may not be to our likeing, not at all,

But who are we to doubt when fate may fall?

The divine wisdom is way beyond our ken,

So surrender without regret even then

Accept all that happens inside and out,

It's all His Grace. Say yea with a mighty shout.

A Sadhak yearned to reach his ancestral home,

He no longer wished endlessly to roam.

Prevented by a mighty flood and rain,

He simply praised the Lord again and again,

"Thou art all and thy holy will be done,

All is well that happens beneath the Sun".

MOTHER DIVINE

When you dive deeply into the Kingdom of the Heart,

The Mother Divine waits to greet you and plays her part.

She meets you with her boundless love and burning fire,

Beyond what any words express. Her Presence does inspire,

To lead one into the depths of sat-chit-ananda,

And reach the sweet lotus feet of Sri Bhagavan Ramana.

BUMBLE BEES ARE BUSY BUZZING AUM

The buzzing of the bumble bees hum Aum,
They sport among red roses sipping bliss;
Nectar likened by the mystics to the kiss
Of bridal marriage, when bold souls come home,
To wed their beloved; never again to roam,
In the gloom of samsara where they'll miss,
The pain of life's dream in which snakes do hiss.s
Sip God's golden honey beneath His turquoise dome.
A wise bee keeper rambled out one day,
His hive swarmed, and he was badly stung;
Yet he welcomed all that happened on his way,
Giving thanks for pain which they had wrung,
It gave him greater inner strength and joy,
A blessing which nothing else could ever cloy.

ONE GREAT POWER

Cleave and cling to that Great Power dwelling inside our heart,
God , the Self, or Sat Guru, whose promised pledge shall impart
All that we need to reach the glorious goal of liberation,
His gift of grace granting us the bliss of Self Realisation.
He teaches us through each precise preordained situation,
Pleasant or unpleasant as it may be. We learn by intimation
The way to remove lurking latent tendencies which shroud
The brilliant sunlight of the Self like a storm-black cloud,
Threatening tranquil peace of mind and causing endless trouble;
Sat Guru's gaze, once and for all, pricks this vicious bubble.
Diligent Disciples dive devotedly deep into the heart,
The way of Enquiry and Surrender, our Master's art.
Trust that Great Power which knows the way, unfolding as it should,
All is very, very well, Brahman is All, and very, very good!

HORSEMANSHIP

Tame the wild horse stallion of the racing mind,

Break him in with the strong rein of mantra japa,
'Whip him with rigourous vigour' said Lord Krishna.
Such words in Great Sages writings we often find,
Blinker the mad colt so he'll never look behind.
Mind control was taught by Bhagavan Ramana,
Essential part of his great teaching sadhana.
Mind will lead you astray like the blind lead the blind,
He'll gallop off madly, so tie him down and bind.
A gallant rider journeyed on his pilgrim way,
The rebelious horse bolted and down he fell,
He knew he must train the bad nag that very day,
Or else riding him would become the sheerest hell.
So we control the errant mind as best we may,
And enjoy a safe ride while in life's dream we play.

NIGHTINGALE

Love shines in bright summer's evening light,

Arms outstretched embracing all with grace;

Yea-saying, in Earth’s bleakly barren place.

On crumbling walls of inner courts of sight,

Sage sees daylight even at dead of night.

Gold streaks dawn’s red cheeks, scatters clouds apace,

Spears of glory pierce God’s infinite space

Of massive nature, beauty, love and might.

The plaintive sobs of amorous nightingale,

Throb for her beloved with poignant song.

She knows her faith in him shall never fail,

Soon they’ll rest, breast to breast, before too long.

When even dark night falls, her joyful tongue

Chants, echoing our God Love’s eternal tale.

RAIN

Thank God for morning's dew-drenched emerald lawn,
And the gentle rain that waters harvest fields,
That fills the mountain's sacred rivers so forlorn,
And aids all gardeners to gain rich floral yields.
The fresh spring water quenches dry thirst of man,
It cleanses all it reaches with its liquid hand,
This heavenly element upholds our days for a span
Of time. For your gift of rain our gratitude is grand.
In the desert of life treading on dry sands of time,
Dwell your oases of Truth to feed our soul's dire need;
We bathe in temple waters, a sacred rite divine,
To purify. Our quest for Truth you'll always feed.
Welcome the rain by singing hymns of holy joy,
The flood of God-Love which will never, ever cloy.

THIS ABOVE ALL

 "This above all to thine own Self be true!"
So wrote our immortal Shakespeare Bard;
This must be the chief aim for me and you,
Effort and study are needed sharp and hard.
The first step is find a Sat Guru's teaching,
Which suits one's distinct disposition,
Who explains clearly without preaching;
That's life's most adored acquisition.
.A pilgrim spent much time in seeking
To find Truth. He was forever reading;
Then he found the truth he was most needing,
A Sage's voice inside that he heard speaking.
"Self Enquire and Surrender, my dearest son,
Then you shall Realise Self and all is One".

EGOMANIA

It would be good if one could write a perfect verse
Of Truth; a poem which expresses the reverse
Of falsity and delusion. Man is trapped in illusion,
Vast populations dwell in chronic confusion,
Because of a dire disease called egomania,
Stretching from Greenland right down to Australia.

Symptoms of egomania obscure Real Being,
The Knowledge of True Self without really feeling,
The pure bliss of consciousness awareness grace;
Realising 'That' as ones own original face,
Not the one we see in the silvered looking glass,
That idolatry is one through which we must pass.

The way to achieve this more blessed sacred state,
Is by Self Enquiry, before it is too late.
We enquire within through attention 'Who Am I?',
And persist resolutely before we die.
Then the perfect Poem is unveiled, as you,
Ones own pure loving Self.'That' alone is True!

AUM

When all's been said and read, what else remains?

Just the blessed bliss named 'silence of the heart'.

'That's attained by effort, grace and many pains.

Such is the Jnani's incomparable art.

To lead us swiftly to Self Realisation,

His helpful sound is the mystic power of AUM,

Taking us beyond mere words and imagination,

It's constant repetition shall surely lead us home.

TAKE REFUGE

Whether it be a pot or heavy lump of clay,
 Or the microcosmic atom in my breath,
 Whether it be smoke, fire or mountain way,
 Will any serve as a cure for painful death?
 I`m only blocking love by logic chopping,
 I must bow to praise great Bhagavan's feet,
 But monkey mind keeps dropping off and hopping,
 Instead of abiding in His bliss replete.
 The heavy weight of reason and causation,
 Will never take me to Self Realisation,
 Instead they lead to endless frustration,
 A kind of morbid mental peturbation.
 I must take refuge in Ramana's grace,
 Inside my heart; True Saviour of the race!

RADIANT DAWN

 Ruddy radiant dawn breaks and shatters dark black night,
Revealing a gleaming world full of splendid life and light;
So 'twill be with frail fractured inner life of pilgrim's soul,
When sudden moksha dawns, ending dark night to make him whole.
God is perfect love, and he calls all here on Earth, to save
Us from harmful hidden habits acquired, and if we're brave,
And follow Guru's promptings, felt deep in one's spiritual heart,
He'll surely lead us back to Self Realisation by the much needed art.
So ruddy radiant dawn breaks and shatters dark black night,
Revealing again His gleaming world of splendid life and light.

TO ARUNACHALA

Oh Great Lord in Arunachala high,
Beholding Thee and falling at Thy feet,
Pressing them against my head, I am replete
With love for Thee; I wish my ego so to die
Fully surrendered in obeisance to Thy
Holy will, which I once again entreat.
My perverted mind, pray now defeat.
Free me from wilful weeping and mournful cry!
I wish to enjoy that heavenly bliss
Which does not even come to Brahma;
Seal my lips with Parvati’s fragrant kiss,
So I can breath the perfume and aroma,
From her blue full blown lotus flowers,
And bathe in blessed grace throughout all hours.

SLEEP MEETS DEATH

A GREEK DRAMA

SLEEP MEETS DEATH

CAST

MORPHEUS

THE GOD OF SLEEP

THANATOS

THE GOD OF DEATH

MOTHER NIGHT

TIRESIAS, A SAGE

FEMALE CHORUS

SCENES  ELYSIUM AND EARTH

Opens with Greek Classical Music CD supplied.

CHORUS :

The Gods of Sleep and Death, met one silvery winters day,

Sleepy, dozy Morpheus and grim Thanatos were twins

They’d met to enjoy some cut and thrust, in verbal play,

Every word was couched in broad smiles and hearty grins,

( Shots of two young men laughing and joking)

Then their dreaded, Mother, Queen of Night appeared upon the scene,

And what she had to say was definitely not serene!

MOTHER NIGHT APPEARS

Sons, stop your idiotic foolish chatter will you please!

Your stupid ideas of humour are like some disease,

What I have to tell you is most critical and grave,

 Please think, how my worldly kingdom we can save,

Those earthling mortals are plotting a revolution,

To cast off my yoke of government as a solution

For their many deserved sufferings and multiple ills,

I want you to find a way to keep them meek and mild,

At the moment they’re threatening to get quite rough and wild!

THANATOS

I could have them slaughtered quick as a lightening flash,

As dreaded God of Death this is my universal role,

We’ll give them all a noxious plague, they’ll fall in a mighty crash,

Then Mother you can start a new race again, obedient and whole.

MOTHER NIGHT

No, no, my most morbid murderous blood thirsty son,

This is not what in any way that I desire to be done!

Morpheus, perhaps you are a better, much wiser man,

Can’t you think up some more intelligent plan?

MORPHEUS

I’ll weave a magic spell of dreams for them instead,

In which these muddled mortals will be meekly led

To weakly graze in shadows grey, like sheep at play.

Compare these two states, attend well to what I say!

Brief is the sleeping dream that you enjoy in bed,

But a waking dream is stable, and stays until you’re dead.

Listen! Learn some real truth, that’s my well tried way;

All feels real to the sleeping dreamer’s satisfaction,

But the stuff of dreams is merely a mental reaction!

I’ll hypnotise them so that they dream their life away,

They’ll be peaceful and never revolt by night or day!

MOTHER NIGHT

“Thank you son, my dear, for having such a great idea,

If they’re sent to sleep  by Thee, where’s my need to fear?”

Tell me how you’ll achieve this miraculous feat,

To listen to your plan will be a most delightful treat!

CHORUS

What you’re about to hear is quite a novel scheme,

So draw close and lend your most attentive ear!

He’s going to put them into a state of dream,

Then their wicked Mother will feel free of fear.

MORPHEUS

In my great magical cinema show,

As wizard director I’ll deftly dim the light,

Plot a soap opera to project for them tonight.

Like puppets they’ll act on the silver screen below.

They’ll think they’re the sole doer’s of their acts,

Ignorant of all real cosmic truths and facts!

CHORUS

But one wise Sage whose own true Self does know,

As earth’s patrons settle down for this epic sight

To thrill their feelings with shock, horror and delight,

Warns them way down on  planet earth below,

The dangers of this hypnotic magic picture show.

Scene :Earth

Opens with trumpet music

Tiresias speaks

Lantern, screen and slides, that  flow

Are emanations from the senses and the mind.

The show you’re watching is a shadow play,

In each human’s will, a spool unwinds his day.

As knowers of the Real, you’re like the blind.

So stop reacting! There’s a much wiser way;

In your blissful, Conscious Self, be still and stay!

All objects are soap bubbles in the mind,

Each being’s driven by One Almighty God!;

He causes clouds to weep and mountains nod.

Consciousness strives through senses five to find

The magic of a dream fit to trick the blind.

For each instrumental part unwinds

Through assonant chords and dissonant notes.

The whole concerto grosso together floats,

Performing ethereal music of the spheres,

For the lone enjoyment of  His celestial ears.

Yet we’re more than piano rolls of sound,

We flow from continuo, a monochord profound,

Played by a virtuoso, improvising with cosmic force,

From the vast silence of His infinite resource.

This life of ours is a bewildering dance

Whirled by a wild Dervish God divine,

Drunk on vintage Dionysian wine,

Wildly turning, nothing left to chance.

Upon the mellow pipes of circumstance.

He choreographs a play of space and time,

Every glance upon Earth’s stage is His rhyme.

Universes glide through His mystic stance.

With rolling drums of thunder, mark His stamp;

(SOUND THUNDER)

In symphony of spheres, hear His tune.

Effulgent Sun shines as a beacon lamp,

His finger ever points towards the silver Moon.

He’s the Alone, whereby all things are done;

Divine dancer, dancing, and the dance are one.

ELYSIUM

MOTHER NIGHT

My son’s, did you hear what Tiresias said, we can’t have that

He’s warning them, now your clever plan will fall down flat!

THANATOS

Don’t worry only a few will understand and wake up from sleep

The rest will go on dreaming  under Morpheus’s clever spell,

Don’t worry Mother all will be well, very, very well!

They’ll carry on living in the same old way, harmless as grazing sheep.

THE SAT GURU SPEAKS

"Sadhak, into great faith pray take a huge leap,

If you wish to wake up from your bad sleep

Of sad samsara and this suffering life.

It's essential while vasanas are still rife,

That you've total trust in my promised vow,

To bear your burdens in the here and now,

After full surrender at my lotus feet,

Dwelling deep in your spiritual heart,

While you practice my Self Enquiry art.

That will make your journey safe and complete,

To reach the promised shore of liberation,

That's my assurance for your Self Realisation".

CERTAINTY

All is very well unfolding exactly and precisely as it must,

Have Greatest Faith in that Mighty Omnipotence, it's much more than trust.

'THAT' , absolutely with certainty knows the auspicious perfect way,

All cares and responsibilities, as He promises, are His each day.

This is the death of needless worry, burden, anxiety, care or fear,

All obligations are looked after by our Sat-Guru ever so dear,

Once we have fully surrendered devotedly at his sweet lotus feet,

Then Self Realisation is definately assured and our life is complete.

GRANT PROTECTION

Oh Ramana ! are You not also Great Lord
And firm friend of the spiritually poor?
In earnest we pray, open wide your door,
To the sweet music of that merciful chord,
Which You can graciously well afford,
To heal our wounded hearts, so sore.
Aid us in practice to move closer toward
Your Lotus Feet, and then walk on, forward
To Realisation of the Self for ever more.
All our faults will be forgiven by Thee,
That's the duty of a loving father for
Ever willing to help his child reach liberty!
Oh grant our protection, and play Your part,
So we may quickly find you there in the Heart.

A SAT GURU REBUKES*

Fools, you're all glued to a food-mill skeleton machine,

Instead of Realising that you're Great Almighty God?

You're experiencing some fantastic frantic dream,

Isn't that wizardly wierd and winsomely wildly odd?

...
You've the crazy companion of a chattering mind,

That's the brazenly bizarre befuddled situation,

But there's a Real Self hidden within for you to find,

Deep inside your Heart, your most intimate relation.


Your fellow dream figures are myriad and manifold,

As your Inner Guru my answer to this mad charade,

Is instead of rushing here and there so blindly bold,

Find your Real Self, persist, struggle, even if it's hard!


Your folly is failing to enter your Spiritual Heart,

So Self Enquire and Surrender replete and complete,

These are the golden keys of your Master's sacred art,

My love will always assist you to achieve this feat.


Then on one highly auspicious and blessed day,

My grace descends and peace is found ever to enjoy.

You'll bathe in eternal existence, an endless play

Of blissful consciousness awareness which will never cloy.

*A rebuke frrom the sat-guru is considered by some as the highest form of grace

.Alan Jacobs

MY BOOKS

This is the link to my author's page on Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B008GJQ3HG

IN AN ALGARVE GROVE

In an Algarve grove, grow almond trees,
Beneath azure skies, midst golden daffodils,
While in bursting bloom these tall trees thrill,
Festooning carmine clusters, which bumble bees
Sip with ardent zeal and earnest ease.
Fleshy fruits soon ripen as nature wills,
Harvested by hands mature, who scan the hills
Chanting hymns of joy, leaves rustle in the breeze.
On The Tree of Life grow souls of Good,
Each wakens at their chosen hour of orient day,
Early or tardy, for Almighty God’s at play.
Buds unfurl, unfolding justly as they should,
Trees trust that Great Power which knows the way,
The Sage says “Trust that same way to your own Selfhood!”

BHAGAVAN'S GRACE

GURU PURNIMA DAY
TO-DAY TUESDAY JULY 3rd.

BHAGAVAN'S GRACE
Whether it be a pot or heavy lump of clay,
Or the microcosmic atom in my breath,
Whether it be smoke, fire or mountain way,
Will any serve as a cure for painful death?
I`m only blocking love by logic chopping,
I must bow to praise sweet Bhagavan's feet,
But monkey mind keeps dropping off and hopping,
Instead of abiding in His bliss replete.
The heavy weight of reason and causation,
Will never take me to Self Realisation,
Instead they lead to endless frustration,
A kind of morbid mental peturbation
I take sole refuge in Ramana's grace,
Inside my heart; true Saviour of the race!

THE OTHER SHORE

On the ocean shore of an alienated aspiring soul,

Wild thoughts stampede like a herd of unsaddled horses,

They frolic on the foaming rocks feeling they are whole.

Mare and stallion jostle in this sport on racing courses.

Sometimes the stormy ocean 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 stupid fool.

When a sense storm breaks I flee to my cabin down below,

And batten down the hatches waiting for the clouds above,

Watching rainbow entertainment to swiftly fly and go.

I pray for the coming of pure Love's snow white turtle dove,

To lead me cross the sea to another calmer shore,
And bask in the perfect peace of bliss for ever more.