Cup of Sachitananda


9

The cosmos has hid
divine herbs in our dreams
and one day upon
the west river we

shall all awake
to see truth, to live
in the light, and

in those blue flames
of the dawn, hope
will no longer be necessary

and faith will seem immature
for supramental identity
will be self-evident

alone, spring’s floods will
drip the bliss of worlds
and the grace will overwhelm
any circumstance of fate
by the ocean of poetry

in the forests of prophecy
on the beaches of mysticism
the Tao will reveal herself

to our mind like a sponge
of all the secrets of the
universe and synchronicity

spellbound for consciousness
as a boat drifts to the sun
creation and the great observer

will meet, and we will forever
be left speechless with the awe
of laughter empty of anxiety
and understanding mingling

with a pure love for all things.

A Gift of God


48

Mother of my Angels
Master and spouse of my
Soul’s bread and water

Come to me, in simple purity
All that I am is yours
My possessions mean nothing
To me, my ownership is not
Something I value, I seek

The universal frenzy of thy bliss
And peace beyond the goodwill
Or ill will of men, their politics

I tire of their customs of ignorance
Let my cavalry be a spiritual vocabulary
The last touch of prayer before
The world changes, as I change
Along with the world, as is

My divine inheritance of this world
Of poverty, these heart-broken people
Their sadness is my sadness, but

My compassion, will it ever reach
Its perfect age? Will I ever know
The fulfillment of my empathy?
Or shall I be as a secret friend to life
Who gave to life only secret signs

And hidden signals? Who will know
My face that lived for the Will of God
The faith of each one’s true experience?

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