Wednesday, 28 August 2013



I'm full as a mountain lake after summer rain

That’s fed the sacred stream and source of holy wisdom, 


A flame sent by God to ignite His planet from above.

The golden glow of heat on burnished plain

Gilds leaves on this path down pilgrim’s lane,

Warming earth, her gritty ochre clay,

Water, sea of mercy, so green and grey.

Air, the sweet breath of life that’s free from pain,

Crystalline beyond any loss or gain.

What does it mean to my Master, pure as a turtle dove?

This vast empty void, a deep abyss, the precious pearl

Of trial that poor pilgrim has to pay.

What of scriptures, tracts, gospels and theological books?

The Lord’s lurid library of commands and revelation.

A crore of scribbling comments with endless emendation,

Weighty tomes which cram cathedrals nooks and crooks

To surfeit cawing like a craw of rooks.

What is self-knowledge, esoteric?

Pathology of mind, narcissistic?

Even  freed from the senses it looks

A hotchpotch prepared by the devil’s cooks,

To titillate the senses to some novel sensation.

So what is freedom, vulgarised by folk-democratic?

But my Master who is One is truly aristocratic!

What is knowledge of truth, understanding, enlightenment,

Ignorance, sleep, alienation, dark delusion,

Or folly, dithering in a dream of world illusion?

Or freedom from bondage and attachment?

Are these questions the prime predicament?

What means ego? I thought, I conceit

Imprisoned by mind one beds in self-deceit,

This is mine, a grasping temperament

For baubles, attractive but so vehement?

But there's Self-consciousness to save from confusion,

To rescue soul from dualit  its preordained defeat?

I pray for grace and mercy at my Master’s tender feet.

I am without a central ‘I-notion’ resident at home,

There’s no me to be elated or badly hurt by fear,

Pleased, perplexed, precious, pouting, proud, or simply here

To feel depressed, anxious but  a soul free to roam

On inward seascape of bubbles, froth and foam.

So where is he who suffers, enjoys, and acts,

Who has strong opinions and knows all facts?

The rising of thoughts under a cerebral dome,

What’s this world? The trinket of an impish gnome?

Here and now there’s no fictional person to jeer or leer,

For my Master, Dame Fortune’s cards are neatly dealt in stacks,

Abidance in the heart, Real Self, there's no need for lofty tracts.

Seated in the temple shrine of the spiritual heart

Nestling on the dexter side of my heaving breast,

Not on the left where the fleshy pump pulses in the chest,

Dwells ‘I Am’ which wakens Self to start.

Pondering, I question, what is the part

I play on life’s stage and what is this world?

Who yearns for freedom from this prison where hurled?

Oh what is oneness, truth and wisdom’s art,

Into which God shot love’s rose-flowered dart?

Who's bound or free as honoured friend and conscious guest?

Behind the nervous body-mind and now at last unfurled,

Space for a universe to happen in, lustrous and impearled.

Deep in my spiritual Heart, I am the One, unborn,

Uncaused, deathless, I am, uniquely perfect, new, absolutely free!

I ask what is this tempestuous, stormy, troubled sea?

Where mind froth foams spuming from dusk to dawn,

On the ocean of Self lit by a fiery morn.

What is creation, world dissolution?

I ponder, and search for some solution.

Who and what is seeking?

King, bishop, Queen or pawn

Sporting on this chequered emerald palace lawn?

What is the goal of seeking? Is it peace, freedom, liberty?

Who is the bold seeker who craves this final absolution?

Has he found an answer? An ultimate resolution!

Yes, I am pristine, pure as the driven Himalayan snow,

Or pellucid stream pouring from  pinnacle’s height,

Chaste, flawless, stainless, without blame, blemish and wintry white.

I trickle down the mountain valley’s flow,

Free! I’m curious, what is there to know?

By what dubious method is knowledge gained,

To what spurious end when it’s attained?

I have no problems here, now or there below,

I’ve surmounted grief, all sorrow born of woe,

Simply stated, I know what's meant by wrong and right.

Our universe by creation, preservation, is maintained

By grace of God and his mighty will, all creatures are sustained.

Here, awakened now, I'm steady and perfectly still.

As an adamantine rock in the restless ocean stands,

Unmoved by cyclonic gale, tidal wave or shifting sands,

What of oppositions, healthy or ill,

Pleasure, pain, to heal quickly or to kill

Distraction, perturbation, meditation,

Reflection, negation, confirmation?

Sage welcomes all as God’s almighty will

He accepts ‘what is’, as gracious grist to time's mill.

Gently by grace of God, in mercy he breaks all bondage bonds,

In a great paean of praise and total affirmation,

He rests with Consciousness, his Self, the great consummation.

I have lost the monotonous merry-go-round of thought,

The perpetual treadmill of self-opinion and words,

Mainly cynicism and lies, the parroting chirp of birds,

A poisonous brew so bitterly fraught

With the mistaken idea that I ought

To cherish the mind as chief,

And then be mugged by thought, the villainous thief?

So that is the lesson my dear Master brought,

Ignore the scorpion stings of concepts wrought

With such inner discussion and debate.

It’s so absurd, there's consciousness here,

A precious gift beyond all belief, he ending of thought,

Now there's peace, ultimate joy and relief.

I am clarity, bright as a diamond, crystal, lily-white,

Growing in a moorland, a purple thistle-bracken field.

So what is illusion? To this question I meekly yield.

Finite mind can’t understand the infinite field,

The magic of Maya is but a slick trick of light.

What is this life? A bad dream which appears?

A noise to deceive the soundest of ears,

An emptiness as the velvet void of night,

For witnessing Self the nakedness of clear inward sight.

To know what is here and now,

Beyond pearl onion peeled.

So my Master gently wipes away all sad grief and tears,

All is well, unfolding as it should to allay such foolish fears.

With not the slightest hint of duality, One without two,

Unity, wholeness, existence, holistic, all seamless

Without separation, pure consciousness, love, awareness,

No division between me and you,

Emanating from the Primal Source, who

Am I, but That? I am eternal, the same

Being as truth and God without a name.

At last I know the little ‘me’ who can never do,

All that happens is the will of God right through.

I rest in the spiritual heart, blissful, benign and blameless,

So what is my greater Self to the mighty God of flame?

My Master says “Unknown, unique, celebrate His game.

For endless striving and effort, what’s the urgent need?

Struggling, wrestling against one’s natural way and feeling,,

Trained from the cradle to do well, and practice honest dealing,

Working hard if you wish to barely feed

A family own a home, car and succeed,

Ingrained, conditioned, a machine well oiled,

Pilgrim’s become half-baked and par-boiled.

So my Master to his students does plead,

Be still, motiveless when you perform a deed.

Forget all those books, aims, efforts, teaching and kneeling,

After all the hard years you’ve zealously worked and toiled,

Open wide, relax, and never by the world snake be coiled!

I have no limits or borders, I am no longer bound,

No hedges, fences, verges, remain for spacious me,

Nothing arises, I am empty capacity for all to see

That all is well, my True Self  I've found!

I traced my ‘I thought’ like a hunting hound

And knew my primal source the light of day,

And now as consciousness I’m free to play.

I rest in the heart on a sacred mound

Where my naked feet walk on holy ground.

I am freedom, enlightenment, joy, bliss and liberty!

Nothing ever was, I am God, what more is left to say?

This Ashtavakra taught me, his devoted pupil, the true Advaita way!

I am That, absolute, unique, ever primeval One

As consciousness, love, awareness, effortless bliss,

Embraced by the love of God, 

Blest by His all-gracious kiss.

In light of glory, radiant as the sun,

I am homogeneous, second to none.

What care I now for freedom or liberation?

In life or death, gaining Self Realisation?

Or for my destiny predisposed to run,

Reborn in another womb 'till kingdom come?

And after transmigration, at-one-ment I may miss.

My Master halts this baffling mental perturbation.

I let go, abiding in my heart of silent adoration.

Alan Jacobs




Opens with Greek Classical Music

The Gods of Sleep and Death, met one silvery winter day,
Sleepy dozy Morpheus and grim Thanatos were twins
They’d met to enjoy some cut and thrust, in verbal play,
Every word couched in broad smiles and hearty grins,
( Scene of two young men laughing and joking)
Then their dreaded, Mother, Queen of Night appears upon the scene,

And what she had to say was definitely not serene!
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!

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 mighty crash,
Then Mother you can start a new race again, obedient and whole.
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?
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!
“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!
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.
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!
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;
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.
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!
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.

Alan Jacobs

Monday, 19 August 2013



The laser beam of finely honed attention
Dives inward, with breath and thought retention,
Searching for the source of ‘phantom me’.
It cuts through five sheaths and veils we see
Of habits, thought forms and selfish will,
Formed over many life time 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 finds his ego, and it falls apart.
Crash, crash, it topples, shakes, and then falls down.
The Granthi Knot’s been severed at its crown.
Open heart surgery has been performed,
The errant soul no longer quakes, deformed.

Sunday, 18 August 2013



Surrender and Self Enquiry are Golden Keys to our magnificent teaching,
So start to serious practise, call off the seeking and cease endless preaching,
Like those deluded ones who say, 'You're perfect as you are now, just remain in a blissful state!'
And then all those others who profess, 'Why bother,it's all ordained by fate?'

Beyond a shadow of doubt Advaitic Non-Dualism is very far reaching,
If we assert we are the 'doers of action ', then God's Will we are breaching,
But in meeting  this teaching we are quickly brought to knock at Heaven's Pearly Gate
Where intellectual games and metaphysical conundrums all end in checkmate.

Let's rejoice in  gladness in whatever God sends us in our pilgrimage on Earth.
This miraculous, melodramatic adventure, starting from the day of our birth,
Passing through our childhood years when rebellious ego started to raise its brazen head
Shouting, screaming,compulsiv e daily demands loudly, feet kicking wildly spread.

Then on to passionate adolescence, loving experience for all one is worth.
But tiring of riotous pleasure, the soul feel empty and loathes such a
meaningless dearth.
And so into this wilderness poor Mary wanders, feeling barren,lost and wretched,
Struggling to find an oasis, festooned with apple blossom and a pink orchid.

She yearns for help and prays hard with faith to her childhood God with a
passionate cry,
"Oh please give me some meaning to my sordid discordant life or I feel
I will die!"
And then, a vision appears before her – is it reality or illusion?
Shimmering and shining with radiance – is it just another trick of delusion?

A firm voice spoke from inside the light with awesome power and might,
but very clear,
"Know your Self, my child, and ask the question 'Who Am I?', banish all
your doubt and fear."
"But I can't know who I am," she moaned, "nor how to know myself or the
meaning of life!"
And with downcast eyes, she wept inconsolably pouring forth  her woes and strife.

The next day in a Mind-Body-Spirit Book Shop where she went to browse and look,
She came across the title "Who Am I?", a force impelled her to buy this book .
And turning the front cover quivering with wonder and awe she discovered therein
A photo of an Indian Sage with a face of great peace, emanating  within.

It struck a resounding chord deep in her innermost heart with immediate force
She proceeded to peruse the pages with the uttermost attention, of course.
‘Self Enquiry’, ‘Mind control’, ‘Peace and Happiness, ‘Self and Individuality’
‘The Jnani and the World’, ‘Sadhana and Grace’, and ‘Aham - all is Unity.

She knew the greatest spiritual adventure of her life was about to begin,
A journey deep into her Self that with this Great Guru's help she was
certain to win.
So she read Chapter One, ‘Self Enquiry’ which told her to ask herself, 'Who am I?’,
Which she did with zeal and earnestness but there was no answer that came in reply.

She begged the Sage for guidance to aid her in this pondersome, perplexing plight,
A serene voice within aroused her and answered in the middle of the night
"Listen to me, my sweet child, for fate has decreed that it is time for you to die,
But it’s not a death to be afraid of, just the end of your individual ‘I’.

The mighty sword of Self Enquiry will surely bring about this mystic death,
Do not expect answers! Questioning, alone is the way to stifle ego's breath."
Just focus your undivided attention through the right hand side of your chest,
Be brave, be resolute, be patient – all will be revealed in this source
of greatest rest.

Hold your breath if you wish, it keeps the mind quiet, then dive deeply
into your Heart
To find the source of the 'I'. This is a method that I wish, my child ,to impart.
And so, inhaling deeply, she followed the advice of her innermost guide,
Putting all her concentration where she knew her immortal soul does reside.

"That is correct," her inner voice replied, "keep on trying just a little
each day
And in time, where your tendencies are tied, you will cut that ganglion knot away."
"But those tendencies are who I am,’ sh said starting to feel bewildered and sad,
I’m not sure that I want to lose my quirks and foibles for I think it’ might drive me mad."

"Foolish child,' the voice replied, "those form the walls that stop you
knowing ‘who you are'
I am teaching you how to know your Self, your True Nature, and remove that prison bar!"
"Please don’t be angry with me," she said forlornly, "I promise
that I shall try my best."
And knocking on the door of the Heart a voice replied, "Come in,most honoured guest!"

After that Mary, for that was her name, persevered daily, as she had been told
Deeper and deeper inside she dived like a pearl fisher girl, and ever so bold.
And lo, amazing trinkets of thoughts, feelings and emotions Mary found within,
But midst rusty concepts and broken dreams, were precious gems of wisdom strewn therein.

One morning Mary vowed not to be distracted by these soap bubbles of thought,
But to plunge below those baubles as deep as she ought, 'twas the Source of I' she sought.
She did not know what to expect - overwhelming joy, satchitananda, bliss.
But instead she felt  as if she were falling down into a deep, dark,abyss.

It was as if a loving power had grasped her mind and then held it firm
and still,
All chattering ceased and a tranquil peace invaded and seized her selfish will .
Like a newly born babe, she opened up her eyes and looking all around in awe
Mary viewed the magnificence of God's creation hardly believing what she

Her ego had fled,it was as if someone had removed a badly aching tooth,
She realised all was One ,she saw without separation, an Immortal Truth
"I am limitless, unbounded, free!" she cried, not knowing if she should
laugh or weep.
"I am God, the Absolute, the Self. No longer hypnotised by the painful veil of sleep!"

Paula Marvelly and Alan Jacobs

A poetic cooperation we wrote together a few years ago