Short Poems

My heart is not the love one, caged in that love
This is way, the path through which,
not one but two worlds've gone

My heart is a pomegranate full of sweet fancies,
To crimson with sunshine and swell with the dew.
Warmed by your smile and besprent by your glances
See, it has opened for you!

My heart goes out to my Creator in love
Who gave me Death, as end and remedy.
All living creatures come to quiet Death
For him to eat up their activity
And give them nothing, which is what they want although
When they are living they do not think so.

My Guru gave me but one percept :
'From without withdraw your gaze within
And fix it on the Inmost Self.'
Taking to heart this one percept,
Naked I began to roam.

My friend iudge not me,
Thou seest I iudge not thee:
Betwixt the stirrop and the ground,
Mercy I askt, mercy I found.

O Supreme, my Father Son,
Now that we two are one
And won by each other won,
Nothing remains undone.

[Excerpt from “My Flute”]

Which religion do I acknowledge? None that thou namest.
"None that I name? And why so?"--Why, for religion's own sake?

How sweet it is to sit and read the tales
Of mighty poets and to hear the while
Sweet music, which when the attention fails
Fills the dim pause--

Unnoted as the setting of a star
He passed; and sect and party scarcely knew
When from their midst a sage and seer withdrew
To fitter audience, where the great dead are
In God's republic of the heart and mind,
Leaving no purer, nobler soul behind.

My baby has a mottled fist,
My baby has a neck in creases;
My baby kisses and is kissed,
For he's the very thing for kisses.