Golden Shovel
Moment by moment and hour by hour, our
awareness dips inspite of sincerest
effort but if we choose childlike laughter
as our orientation, suffused with
love and light innate to our soul, then some
of the divine boons that accrue, ease pain,
which though stored in our subconscious, yet is
the cause of stupor, making us fear fraught.
We’re oblivious to the truth of our
soul’s divinity singing the sweetest
hymns but these sublime ethereal songs,
echoing the music of the spheres are
cognised in staid silence only by those
pure hearts, who have recognised we are that,
that may not be named; our light which does tell
our ego to be still, getting rid of
narrow cravings, that but cause the saddest
moments in life to arise, borne by thought.
Inspired by these lines:
“Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those
that tell of saddest thought.”
Percy Bysshe Shelly – To a Skylark
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