In the blossoming springtime of my youth
I set out in search for ultimate Truth.
In the warm summer of middle age I found
Ramana Maharshi's Teaching, so profound.
In golden Autumn of ageing, hard I tried
To take his great Sadhana in my stride.
Now in wintry old age my snowy head,
Will surrender and enquire until I'm dead.
May be through his love and boundless grace,
Before I die, I'll know my own original face.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.