When the heart melts, what flows is love
That is the world's trove
Love knows not one direction
And has no source of action
Its the innocence of a child
Like the eyes of the blind
Ego beyond thine and mine
With a resolve such fine
Having no expectation or purpose
It flows as the only corpus
All that there is, is love
And that, my dear, is the world's only trove!
4 comments:
If you see the whole world crying for something, say a bigger car or a bike or even a chick, or a darn whatever...what would you cry for with all your heart..
:-) Love of what, Love is a state of extreme passion, something beyond expressible words..something that the Mother brings to you.. Something that you have, that you are.somethat that we all are.. :-)
Pardon my words above, they just came from nowhere and I had to pen it on your blog after reading your poem. Why do such streams come to my mind?!! I dont know
BTW: Nowadays have been eating at a Sai Bhakta's place in the afternoon. if you come to my office I'll take you sometime. She has a life size clay image of Sri Sathya Sai and shirdi sai.and she runs to the feet of her master every morning...Generally I was discussing that I drop everything and go to see my master when hes in town.
Yesterday she was telling me, Why do you go to see the master every now and then.I used to go long back but then, I started feeling that no point wasting my time going there...and then coming back tired..by 10:30 - 11:00 am
Then I told her, I don't know why I go to my masters feet but when I sit in front of my master knowledge just flows in silence into me.
Today she seemed extremely happy as Sai gave a 35 minute darshan to all students/followers during the satsang it seems.
A very devout lady, but with a short and sweet temper. She cannot tolerate worldliness and keeps blasting all the other execs who come there. When I go to her shop she is somehow very very pleased.
The lord takes care of all people who love him, and whom he loves..dearly
Thanks for your comment. I was having second thoughts on its naming, after I posted the poem! I wanted to call it Prema later, not Love. Prema doesn't have an equivalent in English and I use the word Love as a loose substitute. Its like limiting a Brahmachari as a bachelor or a celibate!
Mother's love is not prema and all that you mentioned isn't prema either. Of course, mother's love is close, but not exactly so... since mother's love is directed to the child alone. Prema is something thats the core, its above the drawn relations! Its the only relation, in fact.
NB: Wow! about that lunch place and the person you're visiting... maybe someday! :)
which mother are you talking about? the physical lady mother who gave birth.
I was talking about the mother who cared for you always before/after/and always in all births
Sure, now I see your point in the second para. Agreed.
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