1. MOTHER DIVINE
Our Mother Divine lifts her sacred cup,
She pours pellucid, precious, potent balm,
Curing, healing, lifting pilgrim’s spirit up.
With power of Love, perfect, peaceful, calm,
She holds poor palsied pilgrim in her palm,
And plies him with pure nectar, honey sweet,
So pouring from her silver grail a potion warm,
To soothe all cares and salve his blistered feet,
With Love’s ointment: oh, perfect Paraclete!
2. WHITE KNIGHT
Feeling his fiery steed between his knees,
He watches restless spirit’s breathing flow;
The stallion settles and he reins with ease.
Now tamed, he canters where he wants to go,
To Himalayan summits crowned with snow,
A pure white splendour glowing bright in light,
Above dark turmoil of dormant worlds below.
He arrives at awesome Selfhood, blazing bright,
Sun burst of splendour, ends soul’s dark night.
Now, White Knight hoists on high his pointed lance,
To joust with Death, a fierce Titanic tilt.
As he mounts his steed in martial prance
He strikes hard at dragon, up to the hilt,
To end all dark sorrow, fear and guilt.
Free from sense of doership, an act replete
With holy knowledge, a temple truly built
To worship God, he kneels to kiss the feet
Of Death’s slayer; such a sacred blessed feat.
3. GOD LOVE SOLDIER
Wielding his spear of sharpest concentration,
The God-love soldier plunges its silver blade,
With mighty force of lucid sheer attention,
Deep into the dragon’s heart. Unafraid,
Delivering the coup de grace, vile ego’s laid!
Well honed with dispassionate discrimination,
Whetted with ardent zeal, no wavering shade
Of cowardice, his steel, with keen anticipation,
Slays his wayward mind of Self alienation.
He twangs the bow of Self-Enquiry, to enter
A sharp arrow of clearly aimed insight,
Zinging to the bull’s eye of Truth at centre.
Dispelling all doubts in error free flight,
He finds Love, a beckoning beacon light,
Glowing within his inner cave of heart.
Such marksmanship is God-Warriors right,
To win this vision, the true martial art,
Holy war, waged ‘til soul and body part.
Water bearer draws deep from Rachel’s well,
A jar of truth for pilgrim’s thirst to slake.
Raising the cup he hears the temple bell
Which calls him home to pray and penance make
To God, whom he adores for His own dear sake
Alone, and free from lust for selfish boon.
His love showers rain of grace, and fills the lake
Where sails the white swan of devotion, soon
To glow beneath the golden harvest Moon.
6. PRIMORDIAL SAGE
Primordial Sage, in silence, takes his seat,
Emitting waves of God-like love to those
Who sit surrendered at his lotus feet.
His mystic vision’s sure, and truly knows
The sure destruction of all disciples’ woes,
That halt the climb to Self’s most blissful place.
His merciful love abundantly flows,
Ever granting pilgrim power to trace
His own Self ablaze, in a sea of grace.
7. BOLD PILGRIM
So bold pilgrim ascends the mountain path,
His friends are unconditional faith and trust.
Gentle compassion rains, a healing bath
Of grace, cleansing his feet of mundane dust,
Freeing him from greed, ego, anger, lust.
Fearless he walks, awakened, to his goal,
Unattached, discriminating, and so just,
‘Til attaining consummation with the Whole,
He finds, hidden deep at heart, Eternal Soul!