The light that shines in the darkest night
Is the one that is brightest thus
For it give light to the holder of the lamp, and comfort
When the darkness pierces and blinds.
The others see the lamp from afar
A mere distant twinkling
The joy it gives onself, many not know
They realize not what the lamp can bring
The holder of the lamp feels the burn within
A might force when all go wrong
Holds the lamp, holds it close
To nurture self, heal, protect and warm
There comes a time when the light requires
The burning lamp to move away
A chance to make itself burn brighter
To dispel light in other lands of grey
The holder of the lamp, torn asunder
His stubborn will to make the lamp burn strong
The fear of giving his lamp away
Comes with the fear of losing its warmth
He does not yet realize the eternal secret of the past ages
That the light can never be doused, in the face of strong
To rise outside its lantern home, to nurture the spark of other lamps alike
Is what which keeps the light blazing within, for long.
The lamp and light, one they will be
And dance in glory for eternity.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Redemption Song
She wanders restlessly, like the creeping mist. Fly-away curls lilt around like wisps of air around her face. Eyes which dance like bubbles of joy, out of reach from children. A half-smile rests on her face, a prelude to the rising of the sun. Yet, there is a touch of sorrow in her being. She, a wandering gypsy, caught between the silken curtains of time. She bursts into a silent song of beauty, unrestrained in its yearning.
"I seek God in man on earth. I search for a human form of God and not one of idols. A real God who can see and touch and feel what I do. I am the reason why people grope in the dark and make idols of simple men. Why else did the divine fragrance of holy men like Buddha and Jesus spread to all corners of the earth? How do I give myself away in love and ask for nothing in return? How do I channel devotion so powerful that its intensity can drown and strengthen alike. How do I gather myself in offering without fear or cowardice. What I want most is to break the selfishness that wraps the core of my heart; to uncover the bliss of solitude that lies within."
The wind rustled in the leaves. Its greenness shimmered like emeralds on fire. The leaves spoke in whispers, which bore the truth of all of eternity. "God resides in the hearts of all men, but he is not man himself. God speaks through the mouths of men, but man's words are not a statement of truth itself. You shall repeatedly be touched by the grace of God through man, but believe not that a man's acts of grace are of his own making alone."
The breeze made paper boats appear on the water, flowing. It gathered its breath into a freedom song. "You will neither be able to satisfy the selfish hearts of men. Nor, will they satisfy yours fully. If you want to give love away, do it not unto men but through men. When you see God in man, you will not be afraid to give anymore."
The endless river, blue and winding, carries the paper boats ahead and babbled thus. "Do not weep when men do not see your giving or acknowledge your love. The smallness of men's hearts creates shackles which only love can free."
Next was the grunt of a mighty banyan tree whose place of steady rest had seen through the seasons of change. "A man who gives without needing nothing in return is rare. These are the desires of men turned holy. It is not for those who lack inner strength and the weak-hearted. It asks for courage and freedom from mental slavery. I often see such desires, but not the discipline or the power of will to sustain the entire way. Master your self and come to me, I will show you what it means to be happy."
A songbird perched upon a tree, called from beyond. It broke into a melody, which carried on, far and wide. "Freedom lies in giving yourself away, for you choose to rise beyond your own need. It is an expansion of self which does not need constant assurance."
An old man, wearing a robe of silver held her gaze. He spoke thus: "Man and God. An infinite abyss exists between the two. Yet, there is a sacred union which every man possesses, waiting to be discovered. Men contain the essence of the God you seek. But, let not their inadequacies hurt you for they are weak and stumble. You have been bestowed with a special gift- the desire to love. So, use it wisely and well and in every step, you shall truly know what it means to be loved by the Maker."
So saying, the man and the songbird, the tree and the river, the breeze and the leaves disappeared into the thinness of air into the dark night and traveled a great way to give comfort to the trials of another wandering gypsy.
"I seek God in man on earth. I search for a human form of God and not one of idols. A real God who can see and touch and feel what I do. I am the reason why people grope in the dark and make idols of simple men. Why else did the divine fragrance of holy men like Buddha and Jesus spread to all corners of the earth? How do I give myself away in love and ask for nothing in return? How do I channel devotion so powerful that its intensity can drown and strengthen alike. How do I gather myself in offering without fear or cowardice. What I want most is to break the selfishness that wraps the core of my heart; to uncover the bliss of solitude that lies within."
The wind rustled in the leaves. Its greenness shimmered like emeralds on fire. The leaves spoke in whispers, which bore the truth of all of eternity. "God resides in the hearts of all men, but he is not man himself. God speaks through the mouths of men, but man's words are not a statement of truth itself. You shall repeatedly be touched by the grace of God through man, but believe not that a man's acts of grace are of his own making alone."
The breeze made paper boats appear on the water, flowing. It gathered its breath into a freedom song. "You will neither be able to satisfy the selfish hearts of men. Nor, will they satisfy yours fully. If you want to give love away, do it not unto men but through men. When you see God in man, you will not be afraid to give anymore."
The endless river, blue and winding, carries the paper boats ahead and babbled thus. "Do not weep when men do not see your giving or acknowledge your love. The smallness of men's hearts creates shackles which only love can free."
Next was the grunt of a mighty banyan tree whose place of steady rest had seen through the seasons of change. "A man who gives without needing nothing in return is rare. These are the desires of men turned holy. It is not for those who lack inner strength and the weak-hearted. It asks for courage and freedom from mental slavery. I often see such desires, but not the discipline or the power of will to sustain the entire way. Master your self and come to me, I will show you what it means to be happy."
A songbird perched upon a tree, called from beyond. It broke into a melody, which carried on, far and wide. "Freedom lies in giving yourself away, for you choose to rise beyond your own need. It is an expansion of self which does not need constant assurance."
An old man, wearing a robe of silver held her gaze. He spoke thus: "Man and God. An infinite abyss exists between the two. Yet, there is a sacred union which every man possesses, waiting to be discovered. Men contain the essence of the God you seek. But, let not their inadequacies hurt you for they are weak and stumble. You have been bestowed with a special gift- the desire to love. So, use it wisely and well and in every step, you shall truly know what it means to be loved by the Maker."
So saying, the man and the songbird, the tree and the river, the breeze and the leaves disappeared into the thinness of air into the dark night and traveled a great way to give comfort to the trials of another wandering gypsy.
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