Author Topic: Poem from Mountain Path - July-Sept. 2016:  (Read 895 times)

Subramanian.R

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Poem from Mountain Path - July-Sept. 2016:
« on: July 03, 2016, 02:03:35 PM »
Quarreling with the Lord - Neera Kashyap:

*

The rubber tree glimmers in fragrant rain,
dust sliding back to earth in pouring notes.
Grim greyness leaves to green limp veins, ribs, blades;
wet breathing pores, refreshed with clemency.

Arrive so I forget when you depart.
Arrive so I forget when you hit out
with your unkind departures, exits free.
Arrive so I forgive, forget, abide.

This dance is not just mine but yours, my foe.
This dance is not just ours but Time's to move,
unspooling clouds of film to fill the hours
so Time dissolves, instilling hearts with peace.

To crowd today with thoughts of your goodbyes.
To crowd today with thoughts of endless Time
is greyness; the dance of rain unheeding
the stealing back of grey, of grime, of thirst.

The spool unfolds the hues of dusty breath.
The spool unfolds the hues of endless thought.
For brown a scarred hill, raging red for prey;
the clean of green departs, the screen remains.

Then why do I romance with you, my foe?
Then why do I romance with you in dreams?
Enfolding sleep where thoughts no longer flow.
Then stilling colours all, the Screen remains.

***

Arunachala Siva.                 

Subramanian.R

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Re: Poem from Mountain Path - July-Sept. 2016:
« Reply #1 on: April 07, 2017, 03:35:16 PM »
Poems from Mountain Path - April - June 2017:

Seed - Ana Ramana.

From the wind, I learned about surrender;
how the wheat fields lightly yield
to very passing storm.
From the sky, I learned illusion:
that dome of roof above us,'
the poignant blue at dusk, is little more than dust.
And from the earth, I learned devotion:
each petal of my foot bowing to each weed
that I grew out of.
And from others,
I learned about possession:
who I was not, and by extension,
who I thought I was.
But it was my beloved Master
who taught me the one perfect lesson:
to untie all knots of knowing,
to dissolve into no one, to become again
the innocence that bore
and blossomed all of us.
He offered me in pure humility
this moment brimming with
the faceless, nameless
mindless ecstasy
of never ending Love.

***

Arunachala Siva.           

Subramanian.R

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Re: Poem from Mountain Path - July-Sept. 2016:
« Reply #2 on: April 07, 2017, 03:40:40 PM »
Poems from Mountain Path - April - June 2017:

Not Bound -  Michael Hornum.

Not bound to any nature to prevent being all,
And not bound to any creature to be changed by being all,

Not modified by any sort of relation,
And never other, even when otherness appears,

So, free from differences even in every difference,
Experiencing every difference as freedom from difference,

Nevertheless, not excluding any difference,
As freedom from difference is not itself a difference,

Yea, since the One is not everything at all,
It is freely each and everything.

***

Arunachala Siva. 

Subramanian.R

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Re: Poem from Mountain Path - July-Sept. 2016:
« Reply #3 on: April 07, 2017, 03:44:06 PM »
Poems from Mountain Path - April - June 2017:

The Flame - Rahul Lama:

A match stick is useless unless lighted,
When ignited,
Till the very end of its existence,
It serves itself.

A man is useless unless enlightened,
When enlightened,
Till the very end of his life,
He surrenders himself.


***

Arunachala Siva.   

Subramanian.R

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Re: Poem from Mountain Path - July-Sept. 2016:
« Reply #4 on: April 07, 2017, 03:48:54 PM »
Poems from Mountain Path - April - June 2017:

Peace - Barbara Croissant:

Peace IS
Everywhere, always.
Although it is hidden
By the mischief of the mind's restless eye
You can see it in your own backyard
In winter's stillness reflected
And find it
In the quiet recesses
Of the Pure Heart
Shining
Even in suffering
Yet invisible
Beyond birth and death
Indestructible
The Eye of the eye.

***

Arunachala Siva.   
 

Subramanian.R

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Re: Poem from Mountain Path - July-Sept. 2016:
« Reply #5 on: April 07, 2017, 03:57:39 PM »
Poems from Mountain Path - April - June 2017:

Miraculous Ramana - Arbus:

Bhagavan, if you had cured
Incurable ailments all your life
I would have hailed you as a healer
Playing once more your leela,
-- nothing more.

If you had even revived the dead,
I would have vigorously shaken my head.
Is this resurrection?
Once you had said,
No. It is to die as ego and rise as That,
to which we all aspire.
If you had bestowed to the blind vision
And they promptly sat before a television,
I would have asked you why you not open instead
Their inner eye, the Infinite Eye
By ending their sense of 'I'?
If you had materialized this and that
In glistening steel, silver, and gold,'
Bringing to the receivers pleasures untold,
That would have left me quite cold.
Ramana, you work miracles incredible
Though, to human eyes they are invisible.
Yet, even visible, are inexplicable.
They are beyond all the words
Known to the tongues of all the worlds.

***

Arunachala Siva.