O Beloved,
do not ask me, the age of my life.
Ask me how many lives
I have lived in this age.
I have lived here much before the birth
of my memory.
I have suffered here much before the birth
of my known agony.
I traveled here
much before my known journeys.
I dwelled here
much before the known colonies.
Yet you lose me in your fascinations.
And, yet, you refuse me in your dominations.
You run out, to be designed in an earthly template
and grind and sweat yourself to be elaborate.
I wonder how you miss me? When I am your
inmost immediate.
Alas! you are poisoned by the magic of many
And confused by the traffic of plenty.
Thus, bewildered, you run helter-skelter.
Now stop! and listen, I am your soul, your seamless shelter.
Don’t be shy to settle in me,
because no one else can set you free.
I am the One where the silence flows.
I am the One who truly knows.
I am the One in which things appear.
And I am the One untouched by fear.
I am the unity, and I am You.
Know that behind the clouds, you are blue.
Live high and live deep. You are the existence!
Look and leap.
O Beloved, do not ask the desert,
“How many dunes do you have?”
Do not ask the dunes,
“How many grains do you have?”
Ask the grain,
“How many dunes have you seen?”
Because these dunes and deserts
merely exist in your imposed reality,
but the grain persists in its own
composed actuality.
When the world got shrunk till unity,
and the unity sprung out beyond eternity.
At this very moment, appears the being as a bridge to beyond.
Thus, sieve the deserts and dunes to free the grain, and commune only to nourish and not to reign.
O Beloved, may every grain gain
grace by realizing their indigenous vitality
and be saved from becoming
a thing in the world of inflicted reality.