Musings On Faith

I fix on that flickering flame burning from far away. That always seems to me as though bright stars in an array This calls me like a mother or father calling their child. Waving hands with love, joy, trust, hope, and confidence, compiled... I try to walk towards that flame—that mother, that father. Nothing that is happening around me seems to bother Sounds, voices, noises, cries, weeping, wailing, and pain-filled screams Disturb me, sure, though I try to avoid these as-though dreams... Quarrels, petty fights, wars, and battles often disturb me. In such times, it's difficult to see the flame distinctly. This is when my inner thoughts, words, and deeds get handicapped. The flame seems, as though, by clouds of darkness are getting wrapped... I struggle; I struggle to find this flame shining ever This I could realize in the fraternal endeavour: In the embrace of each creature, and in love and service I find the flame—father and mother—and find me at ease...