Master, give me strength,
That I know thy strength,
That I know that the past is gone,
The present is on,
And the future is thy great song.
That I come out of the shell of convention,
And save myself from the depth of ego,
And realize, that it is Us and not ‘I’ that does,
And that I stop heeding to the Group’s wasteful mores,
And be as true Vedic, where peace thrives and sanity pours.
That I transform this frail calf
Into the graceful tusker,
Heeding not to the past times that bark,
And dwell ever,
In innocent lark.
That I respect the moves of time,
And know that a beggar can possess the greatest of secrets,
And the most touching messages,
Are made in mime,
That every quake is Nature’s way to bring the world in chime.
That, in the process of cleansing this mortal wear,
I do not forget my soul to rear,
For, in the heart that lies,
That blesses not this facade,
Which once falls and dies.
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