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4754Re: [rishiculture] Ammaji-Dec13th

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  • Kamini
    Dec 16 6:03 AM
      Excellent, well written, beautiful.
      HARI AUM!
      Kashanté  (Kamini)
      Raks Shakti School of Yoga, Dance and Healing

      On Friday, 13 December 2013 11:22 PM, yognat <yognat@...> wrote:
      Divine Family – Namastey
      Doing some house cleaning – cabinet rearranging I came across some old poetry I had written decades ago. This was during the time of the horrifying battle with Pondicherry Government over Sri Kambliswamy Madam. It is the reaction of  a spirit facing gigantic challenges. Perhaps some of these thoughts may resonate with you when you face crises in your lives. 

      The tone of the poems can be summarized in Shakespeare’s words in Macbeth : “Screw your courage to the sticking point.”

      Some workshippers of lesser gods.
                 Burn incense and chant their hymns.
      But I …. I adore my adversaries.
      What are gods? Mere granters of boons.
      But one’s enemies….ah…
                 It is they one should cherish.
      Gods preen and fret, demand oblations.
      But one’s foes challenge the very
                  Core of one’s might.
      Kunti asked for
                   The Boon of Perpectual Adversity.
      Wise woman. She knew that
                   Only in sorrow
      Will we seek the Highest Good.
      Pleasures make us soft,
      And praise degrades us as a fool.
      My heaven is not for the decrepit,
      Nor are the infirm beloved of my Lord.
      My Master, He dwells on the mountain peaks,
      Wearing the skin of the fierce tiger demon,
      Dread cobras entwine His matted locks.
      Turulent Ganga, She was tamed by He.
      He adoms His gleaming body
      With the holy ash
      Of my burnt-out dreams.
      He is fierce. O my Lord,
      Fierce beyond measure,
      Terrible to behold.
      For the strength to abide
      In his fiery gaze,
      I crave the exercise
      Only my enemies can provide.
      Grey and heavy hung the morn
      Full of gloom, a world forlorn
      With faded hope we faced the day
      Knowing well we’d lost our way
      Stood on the brink, gazed out to sea
      Both sky and water endlessly
      Melted in unrelenting grey,
      A scene saturated with dismay.
      Which was which? T was hard to say
      Where sea met sky, or night touched day.
      Nothing clear. We fumbled. Fell.
      T’ was impossible to tell
      Where next to step.
      From our darkened room we crept
      Fugitives on a ledge.
      Hoping for a dawn
      We sat, huddled on the edge.
      As if in answer
      To our unarticulated prayer
      A sweet scent, a budding lightness
      Filled the air
      A line of light was sketched
      From south to north
      Across the bleak horizon
      Straight , it ventured forth
      Cut day from night,
      And sea and sky in two
      A rising ecstasy caught our breath
      Our spirits soared anew.
      Enough that prayer.
      Enough that hope.
      Enough the peace
      Of that rare sight.
      A gift from God
      To help us cope
      With dull grey ambiguity
      That thin and precious
      Line of light
      On which to stand,
      Dispelling doubt, dividing clear,
      Right from wrong, day from night
      And sea from land.

      Yogacharya Dr Ananda Balayogi Bhavanani
      Chairman: ICYER and Yoganjali Natyalayam
      25, II Cross, Iyyanar Nagar, Pondicherry, India
      Mobile: +91-98423-11433
      www.icyer.com and www.rishiculture.org

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