Mystics musings

Sunday, April 11, 2010

My Guru's disguises

Ever since he bought the kit, My Guru is into disguises.
On the Guru Poornima night itself,
nobody could find him in his room,
he hid in the sky with the help of the banana tree leaf:
ah, but what could he do about his resplendence?

The portrait

They tell me i am old now
and my wrinkles resemble
those of the man in the antique portrait.
They leave me to myself,and i am glad .
As i light my pipe,
i look up to the man,
i do not know who he is
but remember my grandfather's awe
of even the picture.
There is another smoke from across the hills,
i am not really that old,
but am beginning to forget
whose hills are those,
in all these discussions
of mine and yours.
Those, were the times
grandfather would say,
when anyone came,
the god in us arose,
to greet ,the god in them.
I see clearly, the two smokes merging now
soon the pipe will be done, i smile,
my grandson, when a portrait of me is all he has,
will he be able to see those times
once again?

Vision

Here, take my glasses,
said the elder,
the alphabet is small,
they will help you read better.
Aah! you can always tell this time of year,
I saw he was not interested in the paper,
and looked to the sky instead,
the siberian cranes are here!
You have an interest in birds? i asked

Expanse,
he said,
it carries freedom.

We should be giving you expanse,
who says you cannot fly?
we should be teaching you of flight.
Who says mankind has no wing?
by spreading ours,
we could show,
that you, were born with it.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

And in the play...

I spent
my time
tracing
the untraceable player
and in the play
did myself disappear.

Then woke from the disappearing dream
to see
the dance
was everywhere.