Meditation is seeing life as poetry.
But this poetry quickly dries up like the skin on
old hands .
Once I was told by Shabdanand Ji:

Data Dayal said to Faqir Chand that his own teachings were out of date. They were no longer able to transmit the Truth as far as time had changed. And because of this he ordered Faqir to change the teachings according to Modern Times and according to his own experience.

How wonderful a statement! Unspoken truth is timeless. But as soon as you use words your statements are bound to age with time. And
Data Dayal´s greatness was that he was able to, with his teachings, to point out the time-bound weakness of teachings.

Already Buddha pointed at the moon and warned about the tendency to cling to His finger.
Where the moon was in the past and what hands there were to point it out, can only be a discussion for academicians and people clinging to the graveyard of the past.
The Moon is ever the same, and it does not bother.

Poems dedicated to THAT

And the traditionalists are pointing in the directions told by priest and teachers saying:

The Moon Is there! It was shown to me by Jesus, Buddha... Radha Soami.
 
New words and new poems. The film Matrix, quantum physics, daily life -

all is a fresh harvest ground for new metaphors.

You are hereby invited to get your spiritual poems

published here! 

 
     

 

The mysterious love between
Mr. No Body & Ms. No thing

Nothing can frame You.

Nobody knows your name.

What can be said about You?
Who can understand You?

Only No-one can understand,
And live You as a mystery.



The only one

You are the only one
Looking inside
When You look out
You are many
Then You see through a million eyes

Once I saw raindrops reflect the light of the Sun
And they all seemed to sing: Me! Me! Me! Me!

But!
There is only only
one I can be.
Fathomless Abyss
I am the fathomless Abyss
Sitting in front of this humble body called the Master
Everything becomes what it already is:
A play of forms in consciousness.

Oh Master!
This is the silent lecture radiating from you:
We all share and delight in the same fathomless abyss
So - who is this man sitting on a bed phoning to the world
And what is this body sitting with crossed legs on the floor?

Yes! We are the only one...
The fathomless abyss
watching the bodies called Master and Gunnar

They will soon be gone...
But THAT will for ever be!
Master in the Temple
Yes! This is consciousness!
Like a fetus it is folded into itself
And it sleepwalks into the world...
Like a stomach digesting food:
Intelligent and unconscious
So this body walks around
in this Garden of Eden

But the mountains of love are shining awake!
They can even smile...
Smiling Master
Smiling Master
sitting as the King of Yoga

Seven oceans disappearing
When You close Your eyes

Seven oceans
in one teardrop
of gratitude
from a devotee