In the Garden of the Soul The brilliant roses planted in Thy name Are leafless now in winter's cold embrace, The sap within descended to the soil And of their beauty lingers not a trace. All our dreams of spring are dormant now As we look back remembering the sun That burned from human eyes in human form And know, though we cannot see, the battle won. Hearts once touched by the flower of her smile And minds pierced byher words, truth's javelin, No season's chill, no inclement atmosphere, No cloud of discontent can veil within The light that grows in earth and in our souls, Where blooms the silver rose of sacrifice And

Sonnet to the Lord His force protects, His love envelops me, His calm surrounds, I feel him everywhere, In the crowded rooms of life I could not be Without his love supporting me, the air I breathe is His, the subtle atmosphere Is charged with Grace and joy so deep and fair; Where His feet have trod I follow without fear To flowered groves and breathe the fragrant air, And all the glory that is and ever shall be Is found as we rise upon the golden stair To meet Him in His realm of majesty, For the gift of eternal life is waiting there. He is with us in the beauty of the ways His peace and bliss descend upon our days.

Teacher of My Soul Last night he came again to visit me. How silently he enters in my sleep, Through open doors of consciousness he glides, I hear no footsteps as I wake from deep And far horizons on the midnight tides To greet him in his humble majesty. Perhaps as stillness gathers round my core He'll help me through the hurdles and the falls From Grace.I see him standing by the door That opens on worlds my vision cannot see, He imparts The Knowledge when he calls, My mind to still, my spirit to break free. He is an ancient soul, a great vibhuti, And why he comes I truly cannot say Yet when he speaks I listen eagerly To this g

Retain the Light To screen the burning altar of the soul We place investitures of form and face Till all the strands of being coalesce And ignorance disappears to leave no trace. For long is the labour to weld a strength divine From scattered bits and hard inconscient rods Of being satisfied within itself And ego who feels commensurate with gods. A painful process seems the growth to light, In love with darkness we run and scamp and hide Fleeing the radiance that illumines our lives Enamoured of hate and pushing God aside We war on others and ever within ourselves, With evasive manoeuvres keep the peace at bay, Cover our ears to

O Magnum Mysterium 12/26/01 O great and holy mystery Hold us ever close Strengthen our fidelity Make bloom the mystic rose. Word of our desiring, Voice of unknown spheres Music we were born to sing Fill our song-starved ears. In the choral evening's hymn, At daybreak's symphony When all the stars Thy splendour limn In moon-touched harmony Help us pen immortal odes Upon the slate of space, Meet Thee on untrodden roads And hold Thy perfect face An icon in ou

At Her Feet In an everlasting moment of the soul I knelt by Her and felt the force of Grace Envelop me and penetrate my tears And looked upon the vision of a face That knew the genesis of all our pain, Our births and deaths, future, present, past, Enfolding mortal life in Her embrace That in a mould divine She might recast The human spirit foundered in its form, Unable still through atavism's laws To break in cell and gene the higher light, And join the human portion to its Cause. By Her, in Her, through Her we shall awake, Be done with death and entropy defeat, All-beauty tune our minds, all-love our hearts And bow in joy's submi

To R.Y. Deshpande The Hidden Springs of Poetry Deep within the soul there lie The hidden springs of poetry Whose source abides in realms unseen And planes infallible and free. With a silent mind we wait The word that shall regenerate, The song scarce heard yet inly known, The force that in us shall create The perfect hymn, the peerless line, The mantra that is Godhead's sign. To gain this Grace no time is long For to its light our days incline, Our aspiration's fires burn To briefly in that air sojourn.

Toll of the Mighty Bell We are jerked and pulled as marionettes on strings, Puppets of an unseen force and fate, Moved by the karma of long-forgotten deeds, Our joys our lusts, our anger and our hate, The offspring of a residue of lives, Yet more as the growing soul within attests For with each birth that follows death's long sleep The psychic being greater light invests. A memory - a moment in timelessness Where worlds were by the silent witness viewed At the cosmic edge where night and day conjoin, And the quest for the Lord of Life renewed. The bishop mid his opulent mysteries, The simple monk in his dark and sombre cell,

Paean to My Grandmother I remember little but her radiant smile That broke on us, children that we were, Yet felt a love that brightened all the sky When we gathered by her bed to honour her. There are ancient souls who come to earth to bless And though but five, within I was aware That she who radiated joy and light On her bed of pain saw beauty everywhere. I can recall her children's love as well Who bore in their hearts a sorrow for her fate And each the other helped to ease her ills That by their care her agony might abate. I recollect no cry broke from her lips, And she all suffering with grace endured And no complai

Father, Daughter,and Son The fear within so devastating, bare, He could not speak the word, his voice now caught, Hopeless of possibility, in pain, Hoarsely whispered to me, features distraught, "The C Word" and all his anguish spilled. A daughter sole, possessed of matchless grace All perfections in her bosom held, Of her vibrant spirit hardly now a trace. For she lay dying as we sat in our despair Awaiting in tears the racking final breath, Yet still she strove, unwilling to loose The cords of life and greet the spectre, death. Then silently her husband came to her. And kneeling held her spent and ravaged frame, A fin