to be a recluse, or choose
a family, the village job.
If you know the pure Lord within you,
you’ll be That, wherever.
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Dying and giving birth go on
but most people misunderstandthe pure play of creative energy,how inside that, thoseare one event.
Fondly will they drink water from
That is too brimful to accommodateEven a mustard seed anymore:Deer, Jackal, rhinoceros, sea-elephant ariseLike waves of rhythm and splash,In the ocean of space and time,.To share pleasure and, pain, merriment and grief.For a while in transition and then,Wither away and fall backInto the same lake:
Impart not esoteric truth to fools,
Do not sow seed in sandy beds,Nor waste your oil on cakes of bran.
Ah me! the Five (Bhuta-s) , the ten (Indriya-s) ,
scraped this pot* and went away.Had all together pulled on the rope,Why should the Eleventh have lost the cow?(Why should the soul have gone astray?)
Tickled by the sparks of Shiva consciousness
My desire deepened and IMoulded my nature by pranayamas: (Deep breathing)Torched my liver:With the fire of Love:And thus. I foundGraceful Shiva before me.
The tri-pinnacled lake.
Is crowned by a cliff, glittering in the skies.A bund links HarmukhWith Qaunsar Nag (Veshnapad)The septapeaked mountain Lake isCaged in a limitless VOID: