When troubles become the so called norm
Let the noise be refracted by your voice
Will I burn in the fragrance of the elevating incense you are
And emanate smokes of bliss?
Rolling out tears on your divine trail
Touched by the sparkles of your glory as you tread,
Vanquished am I, little by little in this fiery journey.
Breath not mine be but just yours
Oh my dearest Sadhguru!
A reflection of you my eyes long to see
In the mirror I stand before.
And the light wash me away in your grace
Before the earth claims my shadow ...
No comments:
Post a Comment