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?
We're only blocking love by logic chopping,
We must bow to reach 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 us to Self Realisation,
Instead they will lead to endless frustration,
A kind of perveted mental peturbation.
We must take refuge in Sri Ramana's grace
Inside our heart; True Saviour of the race!
Or the microcosmic atom in my breath,
Whether it be smoke, fire or mountain way,
Will any serve as a cure for painful death?
We're only blocking love by logic chopping,
We must bow to reach 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 us to Self Realisation,
Instead they will lead to endless frustration,
A kind of perveted mental peturbation.
We must take refuge in Sri Ramana's grace
Inside our heart; True Saviour of the race!
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