Deluded by the material objects of this devastating world,
My true identity lies buried in life’s darkened clouds.
Like the sun: the illumined Self, alas, in shadows shrouded,
I ask, «What is the meaning of all this?» I question «Who am I?»
Mighty pillars of the universe support the earth on which I stand;
A little speck of dust may I be. Hundreds of books read: no answer.
Bewildered and fatigued I lay down my limbs. I peer into the skies,
I become calm and still, I hear a nightingale sing her song.
The answer in a flash comes, «Your Spirit is the Lord of all.»
You are not a speck of dust, throw away your books. Just go inside.
Speak Your Mind