Based on Monette B.’s experience
The only land where miracles are common
Is India Divine, I knew that since my youth.
In a temple, I was not preached a sermon —
A yogi’s eyes were speaking gospel truth.
He was white-haired, wore an ochre clothes,
Padmasana displayed that he was barefoot.
He could distinguish me between the others
Because in India I quested for my roots.
His probing glance — and I was fascinated,
Submissive to his will, I sat in front of him.
He gazed into my eyes as I was nominated
For Medium, the yogi’s Western Beam.
We sat in silence, his hand atop my head.
I couldn’t move, it was difficult to breathe…
“Your whole chakras are asleep”, he said,
“You can’t take in the Eastern light with ease”.
…As if his hand went down through my chest,
Inside, I felt a liquid pushing back and forth…
Of all my life, those moments were the best,
My reconnection with the Universe.
O tears of bliss! The total world was in aura.
The yogi said, “Now listen to my forecast,
You have just been reincarnated as aurora,
Please keep the light; this Karma is your last”.
February 4,2010
We penned in persuasive expressions with clarity of thought and mind. A insightful creation. Thanks for sharing.
Yoga and the mind go hand in hand your poem is the reincarnation of self awareness interesting poem regards
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is an interesting spiritual experience. My Teacher touched me once only before leaving his body. Truly we will never forget such an experience our whole life long.