The subject tonight is Love July 28, 2012

The subject tonight is Love
And for tomorrow night as well,
As a matter of fact
I know of no better topic
For us to discuss
Until we all
Die!

Hazrat Inayat Khan

discover some of wonderful poetry from this amazing Sufi master here.

I agree with Rumi April 11, 2012

 

I can’t stop pointing to the beauty. Every moment and place says, “Put this design in your carpet!”
~Rumi

The morning poem April 3, 2012

Open your window

early in the morning

and let the true life

come in.

The birds’ singing

and the majestic silence

listening to their song:

The Joy and The Silence

united

this is The True Life.

 

poem by axinia

Sufi saints: Khwaja March 10, 2011

For the reason unknown I have a special affection for Sufi saints, although I was not aware of Sufi tradition until a couple of years ago. I have been quoting Hazrat Ihayat Khan, a great Sufi saint of modern times, here a lot. Now I would like to introduce another great Master, Khwaja Mu’inuddin Chishti of 12th century.

Sayings of saint Khwaja:

A friend of God must have affection like the Sun. When the sun rises, it is beneficial to all irrespective of whether they are Muslim, Christian, or Hindu.

A friend of God must be generous like a river. We all get water from the river to quench our thirst. It does not discriminate whether we are good or bad or whether we are a relation or a stranger.

A friend of God must display the hospitality like the earth. We are raised and cradled in its lap, and yet it is always under our feet.

A Bollywood movie Jodhaa Akbar (2008), one of the most beautiful movies ever,  includes a qawwālī in praise of Moinuddin Chishti (“Khwāja Mērē Khwāja”). It depicts the Emperor Akbar being moved by the song to join the whirling-dervish-like dance that accompanies the song:

Khwaja Mu’īnuddīn Chishtī was born in 536 A.H./1141 CE, in Sijistān, in Persian Khorasan, modern Iran. He was a Sayed, a descendant of Muhammad through Ja’far aṣ-Ṣādiq. He grew up in Persia. His parents died when he was only fifteen years old. He inherited a windmill and an orchard from his father. During his childhood, young Mu’īnuddīn was different from others and kept himself busy in prayers and meditation.

Legend has it that once when he was watering his plants, a revered Sufi, Shaikh Ibrāhim Qundūzī came to his orchard. Young Mu’īnuddīn approached him and offered him some fruits. In return, Sheikh Ibrāhīm Qundūzī gave him a piece of bread and asked him to eat it. The Khwāja got enlightened and found himself in a strange world after eating the bread.

Maya January 13, 2011

image by axinia

That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides,
thus casting colored shadows on thy radiance
—such is thy Maya.

Thou settest a barrier in thine own being
and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes.
This thy self-separation has taken body in me.

The poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloued tears
and smiles, alarms and hopes; waves rise up and sink again,
dreams break and form.
In me is thy own defeat of self.

This screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures
with the brush of the night and the day.
Behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves,
casting away all barren lines of straightness.

The great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky.
With the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant,
and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore

All humans to me are god-like Gods! April 21, 2010

All humans to me are god-like Gods!
My eyes no longer see
vice or fault.

Life on this suffering earth
is now endless delight;
the heart at rest, full,
overflowing.

In the mirror, the face and its reflection —
they watch each other;
different, but one.

And, when the stream pours into the ocean…
no more stream!

poem by Indian Saint Tukaram ((1608 – c. 1650)

 

image by me.

The play of Male and Female February 10, 2010

This is an incredibly beautiful and profound poem from the Hindu Tradition of Advaita (non-dualism), by Jnanadev (1275 – 1296). I love the way it shows the play between the male and female elements in the Universe…

I offer obeisance to the God and Goddess,
The limitless primal parents of the universe.

They are not entirely the same,
Nor are they not the same.
We cannot say exactly what they are.

How sweet is their union!
The whole world is too small to contain them,
Yet they live happily in the smallest particle.

These two are the only ones
Who dwell in this home called the universe.
When the Master of the house sleeps,
The Mistress stays awake,
And performs the functions of both.

When He awakes, the whole house disappears,
And nothing at all is left.

Two lutes: one note.
Two flowers: one fragrance.
Two lamps: one light.

Two lips: one word.
Two eyes: one sight.
These two: one universe.

The poetry of a Fall leaf November 2, 2009

The Fall’s fallen leaves bring me into a poetic mood

There is some special attraction in them,

while they are covering the earth so gentle…

 

The Fall’s fallen leaves bring me into philosophic mood

There is some special attraction in them,

while they are laying down the earth so free…

 

A fallen leaf reminds me of a mature person

That has the ego no more

A person that has become so wise

That is gets free from all boundaries

And humbly bows down to the Mother Earth

Touching its velvet skin with the golden light

Of the fallen leaf’s heart…

 

 poem and image by axinia

The poem to give to your mom – Mother’s day poem October 17, 2009

God created mother coz

He can’t be present everywhere…

But I feel god made mother coz,

He can’t fill that place…

never have I learnt anything

than in her cradle

never I felt any love,

than in her cuddle…

the stairway to heaven in her mothers lap

the doorway of love is in her eyes

Tukaram September 4, 2009

Tukaram is one of my favourite poet-saints about whom I had one of the strongest spiritual experiences ever. I once visited the place where he lived and was totally smashed into the bliss for hours…. This is the place of his samadhi  (feel the vibrations!!):

 

Tukaram was born in 1608, in the small village of Dehu in the West Indian state of Maharashtra. Tukaram continuously sang the praises of the Lord, he sang it in the form of abhangs which he wrote. These were in his mother tongue Marathi. The abhangs express his feelings and philosophical outlook. During his 41 years, Tukaram composed over 5,000 abhangs. Many of them speak of events in his life, which make them somewhat autobiographical. Yet, they are focused on God, and not Tukaram. His abhangs became very popular with the masses of common people. It was this very popularity that caused the religious establishment (the high caste Brahmins) to hate and persecute Tukaram. as, he was causing them to lose their power over the people.
There are many miracles attributed to Tukaram.

Here is a small poem of him: