Let me be a target of your compassionate eyes, infinite, my beloved infinite, or let my target be you and let me be an arrow sped from the bow of your cosmic sound called "Om." Let me ride the breezes of the breaths on my way, and as an arrow becomes one with its target, so may I be one with you, oh my life, my higher life-- infinite, my beloved infinite.
Love, you are my love. Joy, you are my joy. Whenever you are with me, I Am. When you are away, I cease to be. I am weak, lonely, defeated, depressed when I lose sight of you. A glimpse of you is my eternal victory, the victory that is yours, coscious one, the only conscious one of the universe --infinite, my beloved infinite.
I spend only frief moments with you, but the eternity that you pack into those moments is never enough for me. Yet, I turn away from your presence like a child leaping from his mother's lap to run to a shiny wrapper, not knowing why, never knowing why, and I lose the sight of you. My light, my solar light -- infinite, my beloved infinite.
But now, for now and forever the bow is ready, the breeze is right, my target is before me. Let it be your hand that shoots. Let it be your sound that is the bow. Let this breeze be your breath. Let my target be you. Let this soul be the arrow, the soul that is your spark, well feathered, winged, free with your own freedom. I am you -- infinite, my beloved infinite.
How can a river's soaking lips be parched?
How the flowing stream tongue feel dry?
How the Lord of Free will be
by slender fibers bound?
How can our solar soul ever wilt or die?
Death liberates me from bondage of life,
Liberation frees me from fetters of death.
When thus I am returned to life's Freedom City
without any of enfleshment's continuing idiom,
Freedom sings to me a fairy song that says:
All in the all sans "was," "will be," "shall cease,"
is ever pure, ever wise, unbound, ever free.
Soar, soar, soar from every luminous pore
of mine, O Lighting, to sky's farthest shore,
Roar, roar, roar from woods that mind explores.
O Silences, to suns and suns yondermore
Yea, to every distant sun's
deep fathomless fire core.
Copyright 1999 Museum of European Art
FOR A FREE CATALOG of lectures on audio tapes by Swami Veda Bharati on all aspects of yoga science and philosphy, write to: John Zavrel, West-Art Publishers, 10545 Main Street, Clarence, NY 14031 (USA).