Burden

I carry my pride,

my anger, my lust,

in the chambers of my heart,

but this prevents me from

allowing myself to trust.

All the cynical comments,

all the insensitive jokes,

and petty judgements,

are the heavy burden,

that prevents me from following hope.

Humility is a mirage in the desert.

Etiquette and respect are some things

that I can’t really accept.

Taking care of others­–

no, no, this really does not

matter!

More tolerant than a tree­–

nah, that’s not for me!

True, I am not this body,

but I am within this body.

Thus, I need to take care of it,

I need to bear with it,

I simply need to carry

the heavy burden I have

acquired.

Everybody carries a baggage,

so dear mind,

simply deal with it!

I know it’s hard,

I know you’re wild,

but with the help of the Divine,

everything will be fine.

This Boy Divine

is always anxious to help,

us the forgetful souls.

At the same time,

this Boy Divine,

likes to make us cry for Him

from time to time.

I guess we have to cry,

so one day the burden of our

troubles will go away,

and eventually we’ll be

able to dance for this Boy Divine.

I guess crying for the Divine

is the tax that we have to pay,

so we may enter His play!

Well, dear friend Divine,

please, kindly show me the way,

where I can pay!

When will that day be mine?

When will that day be mine,

when I call Your Name out

and tears roll down from my eyes?

When will that day be mine,

when I call Your Name out

and roll on the ground?

When will that day be mine,

when I call Your Name out

and I jump up and down?

I guess, I really don’t wanna

that day to be mine?

All I do is talk the talk

but forget to walk the walk!

How can that day be mine

when the heart is a desert,

when the mind is a storm,

and the tongue is a serpent?

How can that day be mine

when I am chocking in isolation,

when I am lusting for adoration,

and am drowning in sense gratification?

How can that day be mine

when pride is intoxicating my vision,

when greed is suffocating my action,

when anger is blinding my intention?

Humility is the key,

that unlocks the door

for Your Divine Abode.

If I can’t cry out to be humble,

then I should cry out to learn how to cry!

Alas, when will that day be mine

when I can truly cry?

Weeping and weeping,

your pretend-to-be servant,

submits this cry out!

 

Gift

Born in delusion,

bewildered with confusion,

always in illusion,

a broken record,

skips a beat

and echos in the chambers of my mind:

‘I am the doer, I am the master,

I deserve this, I deserve that!’

Pathetic condition, indeed!

The story goes on…

‘I am the greatest,

I am the smartest!’

slowly poisoning the heart,

constantly forgetting,

that it was all a Gift from the start.

This body, that mind, that voice,

these thoughts, these stories, these qualities,

all a Gift from the Divine.

Nothing is deserved,

neither gained,

nor achieved.

All is the Gift,

the Gift of mercy,

the Gift of Grace!

‘I am not the doer.

I am the vessel- the instrument of Grace!’

Let us be sincere,

let us be humble,

let us be the giver of Your matchless Gift,

let us always decorate the hearts of others,

with your loving playful Names!