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