| Lily Petals of Grace |
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| Written by Swami Veda Bharati |
| Tuesday, 26 May 2009 10:14 |
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Life, aweary, lay in repose. Death, in love, quietly tiptoed Whispered softly into Her ear : Friend, companion of all my paths, Goal of my wishes in all the journeys From eternal times across The vast spaces' swaths, Welcome again to my loving bosom, Rest hereon ere we journey on. Life, remembering, half-opened Her eyes, In just a half-silence she half-moved Her tongue In a response only half inaudible-audible; The other half of Her all already over There, Across the stream, at the Other shore, distant. Life, remembering, half-opened Her eyes, In just a half-silence she half-moved Her tongue In a response only half inaudible-audible; The other half of Her all already over There, Across the stream, at the Other shore, distant. You, here, again? Why, I escaped you A myriad eternal times and yet, God!, you Won't, won't let me Be; always and ever Beckoning me to enter some dark stupefaction's, Some comatose semi-state of Be-and-un-be. Why do you, why, so chase after me, make me always in trembling fear run? Why won't you let me, for a moment, rest? Death, in silence replied, It is I who am truly thy deepest rest; I indeed thy secret repose, Life ! Forever journeying with you so close, You see me not alongside of you But trust me, I'm yours, only one of those Spaces and times where species find Not a stony road, nor a thorny patch. I'm the tree shade under which to pose To oneself the question: Why did I ever Such tiring journeys, running, chasing, choose? Come. Come, Life, to my restful bosom. It is the closest you will ever get to the state That the saints dwell in; They respond to love. They choose to wed me. Then I bring them the bridal night's gift, An unperturbed quiet into highest contemplations The music of the harp that is God's pure Love. Till you take to that path Of the saints and the sages, I am the other name Of surrender to Divine, I am the other frame Of God's beauteous bliss. You say it is I Who in fear make you run But, nay, it is I Who do make you come To daily stations of rest, A snooze, repose, coma, Coziness of sleep, Winter's hibernation - Or just simply suspending All active senses, Free, to quietly sit By limpid waters flowing ~ Or lie in the green on the shore of Lethe's river Even as you now do. Dear beloved Life, I have walked by your side Wherever you have trod. When you sat I have sat, When you dreamt I dreamt along, When you prayed, led I you Into those deepest, sweetest, clearest Depths of the mountain Stream of meditations. It was indeed I; Only I it was Whom you cannot shun Without whom you can neither Rest, nor sleep, nor run. Over yonder, there is See, the patch of green, Where not this, just half a sleep, Not a half-silence serving half a din. Others wave farewell, I alone come along - True and loyal, thy loving kin. I will take you there where It's a Perfect, Total, It's a Complete, it's a Full Replenishing peace, and restorative lull. I know your habit, you will resume, Your races, sports, Chases after hordes While I will keep Myself invisible Shyly veiled bride But loyal and loving Protective company. Whenever you tire, find me along, I am thy snooze, I am thy sleep, In illness thy coma, In winter hibernation, Song am I Thine in deep contemplation, Awaiting that moment When in the final count, Deliver you I To my higher self, A samadhi, a union Of love from which You will not again Ever wish to part, Never become flesh, Make no new start. Fullness shall be Thine. Part I from thee then, Satisfied that in bringing, Thee, the soul, to God, I have completed my God-assigned part. But for now, come, towards the deepest rest. I escort you, I lift you, I carry you softly, I close thy lids, And drift, drift deep Two of us together, Eternal loving friends, Across a stream of time To the meadow of quiet space. The pathways traversing, which No little empty mind, Only God-filled one Can ever truly chart. So Death whispered. So Death comforted, So did with love Hold Life in embrace Such, as though it was - The very Universal Mind Who showered upon Life The lily petals of Grace. |