Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Vineyard in paradise

Vineyards in full bloom
And no sight of those steeped in gloom
Watered down troubles
No match for evanescent bubbles

Thronging those drinking halls
Thoughts seeking to break down walls
Longing for freedom to savor sensory delights
Fearing the end of the festival of lights

And treasures that are alien to the wise
Who are careful not to surmise
That tears of a grape
Provide an easy escape

What they drink is unknown
To those with hearts of stone
Unable to enter a wise one’s paradise
Even with a clever disguise

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Training the mind - 13

Fearless of actionless prayer
And fearful of prayerful action
One neither scales the earthly summit
Or rises to the high heavens

Work is worship goes the saying. There are innumerable types of work that one may undertake. It does not answer the question, what is true work? Mark Twain said, “work and play are words used to describe the same thing under different conditions”. Even when we are sitting quietly with eyes closed and the mind not focused on anything in particular, there is a tremendous amount of work going on in the body. Cells are not static. They are in continual state of action that leads to either regeneration, maintenance or destruction. When our mind thinks it is escaping work and thinks it is resting and enjoying activities that it finds pleasurable, this internal work in the body goes on. Even in the mind, there is always activity going on. When we sleep, we close the door to the mind, but we can never turn it off. Each one may have a different definition of what work means. Generally speaking, when we try to define work, we are only able to to describe activities that we perform in different situations. All these activities are looked at from the perspective of the mind.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Magic carpet

Blind to life in space
May be the undoing of this race
The final step has been climbed
Now it’s time to wipe the grime

With so many riches and treasures
Humanity has claimed many feathers
The one that’s missing
Carries an important blessing

Lost in the midst of locust swarm
One can easily miss that form
Whether it is native or not
It is a great loss to leave that thought

Reflections throng a mental beehive
Where the queen thought must thrive
Spawning many generations
Camouflaged as life’s many stations

Sunday, July 12, 2015

The race to divine

Wind-up dolls let loose to roam
The freedom quickly traded for a smaller home
As the drum beats finally wind down
Smiles turns into a sorrowful frown

Parts malfunction or fall off
Deep down it is met with scoff
The trail goes cold beyond that thought
And few venture beyond a vanishing beauty spot

There are many vistas yet to see
Enthralling the explorers out on the high sea
Civilizations leave like floating clouds
The earth has hidden many secrets behind shrouds

In places as deep as the mind
Making it an enlightened rock as it hosts our kind
It’s beauty may be glossed over
With the race to divine there isn’t much time left over

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Watch that space

Living under a hood
With room to be misunderstood
Watched over by a benign blue
The sages of yore found so true

The modern eye rarely looks at that hue
When there are infinite other shades to pursue
Wealth of another kind that’s untrue
Poisoning the passions of a man of virtue

That space hidden behind a soft lid
Isn’t just a blank grid
The power to assume
Spells inner doom

Men of a different age
Now comfortably tucked backstage
When they held sway
Building brick and stone wonders was the way