LOGIC CHOPPING

SONNETS OF EXPERIENCE

LOGIC CHOPPING

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 Sri Bhagavan's feet.
But monkey mind keeps dropping off, 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 perturbation.
I take refuge in Sri Bhagavan's grace
Inside my heart, true Saviour of the race.