I sat up to pen down the thoughts that began to flow...
Spiritual Progress?
The garment bought in the market is good enough
The master wears it, it collects grime over time
Has to be washed, however well kept it may be
There the process begins - soaking in soap water
A time when the mind garment is dumped with company
Other mind ideas that have the power to cleanse
The cloth then is taken out, from its wet existence
Subject to a more subtler process here
Rinsing in the pure waters that wash away accumulated tendencies
That over, yet a lot remain
It has to be wrung dry of even the holy waters
The master holds the mind's cloth in his hands
Tightens his grip into the now rope-like fabric
Spins it hard and squeezes mercilessly
There is yet the influence of water
Pure though it may be
An alien impression nonetheless
There it finds its place beneath the sun
Spread out on the clothesline with many others
Exposed to the scorching rays of consciousness
Chilling out, yet giving away
The few little ideas it holds on to
Even that is not enough for a product final
There is a gruelling process of surrender
Red hot coals from the depths of the earth
Flatten and iron out the tenacious wrinkles of distortion
The cycle goes on no end
But for the Master who does it all,
There is no pain, no gain
No thing whatsoever.
-
Swahilya Shambhavi
Truth
The poem is not the truth
There is a silence
A nothingness
An empty space
After all the eddying words have poured out
There my dear, is the truth
Hold on to it and dissolve
Into eternity.
-
Swahilya Shambhavi