Benign bliss burn
In mind-body urn, a car that we drive,
allotted this time around for our use,
we toil and struggle and needlessly strive,
offering ignorance as our excuse,
heeding not our conscience, the voice of God,
touch of love, so tender and intimate,
as mile after mile in stupor we plod,
refusing to enter heart, heaven’s gate,
even though we see head and heart estranged,
being the cause of our inner conflict,
we’re fearful that if love notes be exchanged,
we may perhaps be by other souls tricked.
Poised in staid silence, leaving fears behind,
in time we see that we’re not body-mind.
In time we see that we’re not body-mind
but rather a presence aglow within,
eye of the eye that cannot be defined,
found when we silence mind’s deafening din.
Discarding all vicarious knowing,
choice of cessation invokes divine grace,
whence feeling magnetism in form flowing,
benign bliss burns hold us in close embrace.
Finally free from mind’s thinking disease,
vibrant thus as awareness self-aware,
fetters of desire as we so release,
with the heart of God we seamlessly pair.
With love as our mainstay, silence the way,
we remain bliss drenched by night and by day.
We remain bliss drenched by night and by day,
transfixed thus in all-time meditation,
which, call it of you will, the way we pray,
each breath intake, a joyous celebration.
The seeker who once sought has disappeared,
in whose place has emerged a smokeless flame,
resisting not currents by God’s hand steered,
with no demonic desires left to tame.
It’s said man proposes, God disposes
but when we both are one, boundaries blur,
so as we walk this path strewn with roses,
all we do is, with pulse of love concur.
Flame of consciousness we thus do revive,
in mind-body urn, a car that we drive.
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