Beloved brother of all times,
Leave your worldly persona in a clock which doesn't tick
And the activities cluttering your mind buried in a tiny stone,
Come rest without clothes or worries,
Without any clouds, skies or sight.
In the realm of Self there is complete freedom,
Wind murmurs through the absence of a voice,
There is no ground and no body here,
Grace holds you in its lap.
Crystal rain embrocates your thirsty lips
But all sensations are only deceitful ghosts.
A tongue that once used to serve you,
It now turned into a disappearing dust,
You need no words, no language,
No concepts or beautiful sounds.
Images have left and you're unmoving, still
There's nothing in, nor out
What could it be?
You have no arms to reach,
The play of transience was just an illusory dream.
You were something called Life,
Believing you belong to birth and death,
Asleep into the scent of burning sandalwood,
Walking proudly as 'someone'.
What is your true nature?
Have you asked?
I'm present and aware
I'm unseen yet felt in every glance,
I prevail in all eyes, and in the world perceived,
I'm a void of fullness,
Whispering without ceasing,
A mantra of Pure Love.
Dip your heart in a bow to Silence,
Awaken please, you are the NOW.
A blessing like a shooting star may reach you sister, brother,
A timeless kiss shall paint
Your incandescent face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dip your heart in a bow to Silence, Awaken please, you are the NOW. A blessing like a shooting star may reach you sister, brother, A timeless kiss shall paint Your incandescent face. very much like Indian mystical thoughts. very fine poem. tony