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.

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