Through the Veil: By Joyce Sweinberg


Misty mystical morn
born of last evening’s tempest,
clothed in Maya’s veil.

Children of the cloudbursts return to the source,
dancing reflections of Infinity
rising to the call of the Beloved.

Lingering droplets, moist and luminescent
reflections of Infinity
playing in the filtered light of the sun.

Laden with the fullness of nothingness,
quiet clouds of misty air dancing, glistening, listening
to the music of the morning.

Hark! the birds are calling,
declaring the perfection of All That Is Brahman.
Let me not care for reason!


Photographs courtesy of Joyce Sweinberg

The Ascent: By Madathil Rajendran Nair


A mountain side afire,
Crimsonness aflame,
Seated Mother drowned in your thought,
The flame of forest I am.
A perineal flow of molten lava
That weaves serpent-like,
Breathing heat and fire alike,
That is how You begin
Raising Your head
Answering the call,
The call of my Immortality!

Thunder claps aloud,
Lightning streaks the skies,
It rains on the peaks
Setting rivers in rage,
Down abdominal foothills.
Mother, I am
A deluge
Of joy nonpareil,
Electric, ecstatic.
That is how you move,
Answering the call,
The call of my Immortality!

The earth splits apart
To show her mines
Of dazzling gold and gems.
Mother, I am
Your red robe sprinkled
With golden dots,
Covering the navel
That upholds
Creation from dust to stars.
That is how you smile
Answering the call,
The call of my Immortality!

Heart beats a rhythm,
As sanguine turns
The skies around
Into vastness unbound.
Rosy redness I am.
Where I borrow the hue,
There you are,
Humbling the damsel dawn
In her blushful sheen,
Answering the call,
The call of my Immortality!

Air sings your glory,
Tunnels of light awake,
Up the bronchial paths,
As sounds of music play,
Distant anklets clank.
A sky of quiet I am,
Drowned in a joyous brood
That the breeze soothes
Into sky-like evanescence.
That is your ascent,
Answering the call,
The call of my Immortality!

A temple zooms upward,
As space stands aghast,
Time loses her support,
Events come to naught,
A boundless beauty dawns
On the temple heart.
There You are!
Mother of all!
Seated on a matchless throne,
Fondling the strings
Of my being on your lap,
To play an eternal note,
Answering the call,
The call of my Immortality!

Galaxies in spate
Glitter the crown
That adorns a forehead
Where countless skies
Find at last their resting place.
Light-years without a count
Lose their way,
Listening to an immortal lullaby,
And seeking their essence
In the moist eyes,
Oceans of kindness.
Mother, You are
Seated on the Lotus
Of a thousand petals,
All crimson red,
Like a sunset
That human eyes
Have never ever beheld.
There You are! Mother!
My own Immortality!

Vanquished distance cries,
With time undone,
In the ocean
Of your magnificence
Of unsurpassed shine.
Unwanted are the eyes
To know it all
In me the fullest thing,
For You are the One,
Brittle mortality beheld
So far with a wrinkled mind
And blinded eyes,
As it did a distant star
In the wilderness of the skies.

With your ascent now made,
You have never been
Other than the unknowing me.
Mindless, formless here I burn,
A speck of camphor at your Feet,
In an endless flame
That never can be
Other than You, my Immortality.

Image can be found at


Mr. Madathil Rajendran Nair was born in 1946. He is currently stationed in the Middle East working as a PRO for an Oil Company. Mr. Nair is a prolific contributor to Yahoo Group Advaitin on Vedanta and a Moderator of the Group. He often writes at other Yahoo Groups too, which focus on spirituality. He dabbles with poetry in English and Malayalam, his native tongue, but has no published works yet.

Note: Perineal = Of the perineum corresponding to the first cakrA

Freedom: By Jeff Belyea


Poison tipped
white lies
Fly Swiftly
Their whispered hissings
Silently decry
My burgundy dark deeds
These arrows drunk
With excessive wine
Still easily find
Their mark
Sharp merciless fangs
Drag me to the ground
Biting wounding truths
Have found me out
Pleading for release
I am left bleeding
Deep blue eons of time
Confine me find me
In a beggar’s grip
But then I am delivered
Before the queen of kindness
Who melts my chains
Lays claim to my sanity
And grants my

Photographs by Alan Larus

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Paramahamsa Gayatri.

hamsa hamsAya vidmahe
paramahamsAya dhImahi
tanno hamsah prachodayAt

“Let us know Hamsa.
May that supreme Hamsa illumine our intellect
May Hamsa protect us.”

Alan Larus

“I live in Norway and work with database programming. When I have the time I walk in the mountains, forests and along the sea. I also listen to music and read and write a little poetry and take pictures.”

Photographs by Mazie Lane

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Mazie Lane

“Well, I guess I’ll just tell what led me to where I’m at now: At the age of 20 I had a near-death experience and was guided to Paramahansa Yoganandaji, my guru. The path he’s shown me is the path of devotion as advised in the Bhagavad-Gita. At the same time as this, Sri Ramana Maharshi also stepped into my life, presenting the query “Who am I?” I studied literature and poetry while at Sacramento State University, and, also the study of figure-drawing was a keen interest. My interest in the “spiritual” began as a child contemplating “how far is far?” During the past year my chief occupation has been the writing of mystical poetry, inspired mainly by Rumi and Hafiz. Being in the company of this Advaitist group has been the best lesson I could turn to each day.”

Copy of In_the_Cave_1.sized[1]

More of Mazie’s photographs can be found at
Mazie is founder and moderator of the following group: