Recovering the Sacred by Dhyaanavati (books to read to be successful txt) 📕

all-consuming
existential fever if Thou have not willed to
accomplish Thy work? To leave me
in the dire poverty and
torments of any realm,
here or hereafter, is equal
to a criminal act, after all.
Whom to sue Thee to, o
Lord of the thieves?


[Do I hear Thy voice in
the crows’ morning chat
commenting on my blabber,
or this is again my imagination
going mad in Thy absence?
In any case, art Thou not
that as well? And how
can this knowledge be
of any benefit at all?]


15

O Master of all moods and rays weaved
in the cosmic tapestry of existence,
Artist supreme who play with
all colors and shades on
the canvases of ever
birthing and dying
universe! Free me
from this entanglement
that bears only suffering!
Dost not leave me to perish
in Thy negligence. O how could
it be, Mastermind of every escapade?
Do not further twist already corrupted
thoughts, but allow mind to soak
in a vibrant field of Thy grace,
o Arunachala, the womb
of all powers!


Kindly accept my plea and
let me serve Thee in any
mode and form
Thou have
conceived
for this being.
Just let me know
beyond any doubt
what is my role in
Thy play, what
stations and movements
Thou have assigned to me on
the world stage of Thy Self-display,
o great Orchestrator of all destinies!


16

Thou canst set me free from my predicament
in no time, with but one glance of Thine.
Then why Thou keep troubling us both
with Thy non-responsiveness?
There are no juices in me
left to be squeezed
for Thy pleasures
anymore. Have
mercy upon this
beggar and thief,
woman of the streets
running after her vision
of life at Thy feet. O take me in
Thy household! Dost not say all is
but a figment of an idle mind and
a meaningless fancy; instead,
kindly lend the tender
ear of Thy Heart
to this orphaned child
who relies on Thee alone.


Thou only canst judge properly and
either save me (Thyself as well) from
my wretched fate, by elevating me into
Thy world of abounding calm and rest,
non-flickering radiance and happiness,
or blow me off into the horrors and
forgetfulness of netherworlds.
The choice is Thine,
the hour—of Divine.
But Thou must give me
the strength to gladly accept
whatever Thou decide. However,
no decision must cancel the truth of
Thy loving and compassionate Self.
Hence, discard every disguise and
fully reveal Thy benevolent face.


17

Is this Thou knocking hard at
the door of my being while
I’ve been wailing about
my pity condition
and wallowing
in the slush?
I am coming
my Lord, I am
already here. But
there are no doors
and nobody is there.
The knocking though
has not stopped yet.


Ah, this gentle and powerful
throbbing of Thy presence
in the Heart of my heart—
may its sweet rivulets
ripple over all
barriers
the ego-mind
has laboriously erected,
clueless about and fearing withal
the immensity of blessedness of
its dissolving in Thee. Poor
fellow, it still interferes
not knowing yet: its
lordship is over—
this is Thy time,
and its place, at best,
as a servant at Thy Feet.


Have mercy upon us,
o Arunachala, the indwelling
omniscience, appease our thirst of ages,
bestow the ultimate boon of Thy kindness—
the supreme Science and Art of Eternal Bliss!


18

O unfathomable
play of Love, art Thou
deceiving me again whispering
in my eager ears that Thou
art carrying me already as Thy
bride? Stop mocking me, please,
my heart bleeds. Since I am, obviously,
ragged and unfit—why else wouldst Thou
allow these torments of self-doubts and for
so long postpone Thy bestowal of grace?—
be Thou straightforward with me and tell, in
a way that leaves no room to confusion or
projecting thoughts, what mistakes do I
constantly make and what state must
be attained to be in the circle of
Thy family and friends.


If not Thee, Lord of the lost
and longing souls, who else
could make me fit for Thy kingdom?
How canst Thou just silently watch this
suffering and, unmoved by my humiliation,
keep me insulated from Thy gracious touch?
Is this Thy compassion? Even if my disease is
deadly contagious, art Thou not the ultimate
healer of all ills? Is Thy heart made of
granite, is this Thy fabled
motherly grace?


19

O Beloved Arunachala,
forgive the craze and liberties
of this ignorant woman, mad with
Thy unspeakable splendor. Thou who
best understand the troubles of a knotted
soul’s anguish for freedom, do not delay
any longer Thy Divine downpour on
her inflamed bodymind confusedly
identified as the only real.

Have mercy, o soothing Darling
of Thy intoxicated devotees! Grant peace
to this implacable mind and cure me from all
guises of ignorance. With Thy all-forgiving,
all-taking and all-giving embrace of grace,
no matter how numberless they are
all defects and errors are
bound to disappear.


20

O Arunachala,
the sole refuge
of the downtrodden and
the best among sages alike,
do extend Thy caring hands to
this quarantine Thou had originally
locked me in. How can touching
the untouchable spoil Thee, o
epitome of purity? If not by
Thy grace, how else can
I get out of this dreadful
maya-maze? Can I lift myself by
pulling my boots up? O Lord, hear my plight,
stop playing this horrible game with Thyself in me
and make me sharply aware of the errors I repeat.


21


Nobility of this life, now
worse than that of a monkey
or a dog, Thou only canst restore
to its pristine sheen and make
it worth living again by
Thy grace alone.

Otherwise,
Thou better kill me
this very moment: the soul who
cannot live with her Beloved—
embodied on the Earth now
in all His resplendent
plenty, at the time
of Divine
upheaval—
such unfortunate
soul does not need
the body-suit anymore.
The choice, of course, is Thine.
But I plead to Thee, o Lord of death
and birth, do take under Thy care this tender
being pupating within me; do not allow
new life to fall into the same mold.


22

O Arunachala, balm
of the full moon face,
shower Thy grace upon me
and accept this unskilled garland of
earnest prayers. Forgive the arrogance
of this attempt to emulate, so poorly,
Thy great sage—in my frightful
spiritual poverty, to which
I woke up panting,
the brilliant body
of his compassionate
verse lit my darkened treks
and, unfolding his path to Thy
Heart in all its perfect simplicity,
opened a deep well of rueful tears
in this garden for ages so neglected.
And lastly, if Thou allow me a word
in my defense, this is the only thing I
can say: the flame of love for Thee,
Beloved Consort of ours, albeit
thickly covered in me, is
one and the same.


*
O Arunachala,
Victory of the Supreme,
may I be consumed in Love of
Thee dissolving into the Self’s ecstasy!


A Response
Appearance


Stay
poised
in the Heart
and know: I am
the sacred Thou you
semi-consciously invite
from the dimmed zones
before the sunrise; I am
the wisdom light of
Eternal Bliss
throbbing
through
artificiality
and cunningness
of your mental life
in the fortress you still
so jealously guard against
My explosive influence—
fearing to face the simple
reality of Thou and I:
yours very truly,
the Self


An Auspice of Karthika Deepam


1

In the night
of broken mirrors
lost innocence
found
looking for itself
mid shimmering dust
on the edge of
abysmal oblivion


The hill of
ascending attempts
never fulfilled
bereft of soul’s
intent turned
into naught
under the full Moon’s
gaze of intense vigil


2

The Fire Mount
leaped out
in a single flame
to reach
the self-luminous
core of the Sun
in this night
of merciful descent


when Shiva
granted Parvati
His essential part,
fullness of His
ever brimming
blissful heart, and
the Lovers became one
immortal Body,
Eros personified


3

Drenched in
indifferent tides
of recovered love
the cloudless
aloof witness
pours its luster
in spacetime
each moment
sweetly smiling,
the prowling
faceless death,
from the gates of
new becoming


As Is
A Moment of Remembrance


No more struggle
Nor strife, just
Opening to
Descent
Supreme.
And there it is—
The long waited
Downpour
In the early
Hour of a being
Awakening to itself.
And the Earth was glad,
Her face beaming
With a new light.


“So, you have arrived,
My child”, the Mother smiled.
“Let me take you into My gardens and
Give you a walk through the golden-domed
Mansion in their midst. Sitting in its inner
Chamber, gazing at the crystal ball of
Its main receptor, soon you will
Remember all, to minutest
Detail, and realize that
You have never left
Your home.”


The birds and the flowers,
The trees and the creeks,
The smoke veiling the mountains
And the clouds flirting with the sunbeams,
Autumnal wind gently playing with the leaves
On less trodden paths to the heart of things,
Everything in awakened Nature, from
Bellow and above, from within and
Without, sang the song of
Welcome to her. And
She was healed.


Womb of Wisdom


The divine seed
deposited in

the womb
of wisdom

Time to sprout

What is
left of it?


A new vine
twines

round
the axis

of emptiness:


in the conscious
web of love

the old
world
unwound


Flame of Awareness


Enter: through
the pearl in the pupil
of the Eye
into the Light
that sees.
That is
the way of
thoughtlessness:
across the freedom
sky deep and
serene into
the pure
space of
isness;


Enter:
through
the blazing