I am reading,
From a codex of bliss;
A song never before read.
It's both means and the end.
It's formless beauty,
When pain, doubt and despair,
Tried to overpower me,
I wondered if my experience was real;
I returned to this profound,
Abode of bliss,
The Absolute harmony,
Mystery of life,
Essence which dreams,
I realized that suffering,
Was merely a passing shadow,
The eternal song of ecstasy,
Was my true home.
It's ever new,
Without identity or limitations,
Well-being which is real.
Without any beginning,
End or middle,
It’s beginning, end and middle of everything.
It has no proof,
It’s proof of everything.
This genuine blissful experience,
Is purpose of life.
The golden hall is condensed energy,
The hall of gnosis is sparse energy,
The mystic dance is joy supreme.
It felt like being transported to a new world today;
I only hover over this body at times;
There's a screen of consciousness,
A dancing screen,
Made of scintillating light,
A golden cursor lets me,
Paint empty pictures,
It's not a dead light,
Not a radiation or an afterglow as Science has it!
They all have it wrong!
It's the source and the destination.
It's a mystery to senses.
It's a mystery to mind.
Throbbing with bliss,
This void is the flip-flop dance of being and nonbeing.
Some say being is synonymous with consciousness,
Some others say: they're different.
In being, which is this mystic dance- all questions and doubts drop.
Sleep is induced for senses.
It's a waking sleep.
Thus the transcendental waking and sleep coexist.
It's the fullness of Thuriya.
It's been my home.
With every passing day;
It's becoming more profound.
Did those mystics know,
These books on chaos,
Were going to be mimicked after their bliss codes?
They didn't imagine science abundantly showing their beloved on television screens!
The human brain is modified to accommodate this new mind,
Eyes become camera like sensitive,
Glands and senses become hyperactive,
All this for one experience which matters: genuine bliss which lasts!
How did I know in my heart,
In the beginning itself,
That perpetual ecstasy was a fact?
I knew it. And it's a fact.
Despite all horrors of decay, death, aging and limitations around;
There's indeed something like everlasting love and bliss,
I tell this based on my own experience,
For it will never be taken away from me.
I have reached. This is my Home.
If I keep writing for,
It will not be enough,
To express how it feels,
To have come Home!
It has been said many times before; by many people,
I feel mostly like being silent,
Whenever I speak:
It's you speaking!
The dancer divine who is one with me.
Core of reality: fullness of heaven!
I complained about your not being able to completely subdue this monkey of my mind.
You said: we're just getting started darling!
I constantly complain about how long it has been here, without you: you pass over it in silence. Mysterious silence.
My love for you : knows no bounds.
Your love for me is limitless.
My love for you: is my love for myself!
You have given yourself to me. My life was for you: since the very beginning. And you know it very well.
My treasure: shining in my heart. You're the only one.
PS: trying the verse format for the first time, which is available in the WordPress toolbox now.
I realized: Self or Bliss alone matters!
Why should I waste my time describing things which prove to be mere diversions?
It’s for bliss that we seek diversions.
When I realized Self : it was bliss with me : always remaining by my side, well melted in my mind, in my heart, never leaving.
It took some more transformations to convince my mind that there’s nothing else I needed to pursue but merely to sing songs appreciating what I had arrived yet.
The conviction became unshakable, firm and profound.
This absolutely quiet blissful dance of reality is my home, my nature and my love.
If I don’t talk about it: some dark elements come dancing for a while which are soon kicked out or flushed out.
I prefer talking about it. It’s reality. I see carcasses chasing dreams. I don’t think I want to pursuade them. In them also: I see the same dance of reality. Bliss. I think, feel, reflect, read and write about it: about reality. Reality which eludes Science and which is beyond human mind made itself known to me. It assumed my form by mingling well with me.
In the sacred chamber of heart,
The mystic union with,
The damsel who dances,
A red drop met a white one,
Cool soothing flood of bliss,
It has flooded everything everywhere,
And consumed all the shivering of,
The blessed one. The Bhagwan. The God. The Godhead. The Absolute. Reality. All are the names of my mystic partner who is dancing right now before my very own eyes. It’s also dancing in my body. It tastes sweet in my mouth in form of ambrosia. It rings musical in my ears. It’s the highest good. It’s capable of performing all things. It’s omnipresent and omnipotent. It’s omniscient. It knows all but nobody knows it.
My boat has been sailing too long,
Alas! Far too long.
I have been floating on cosmic waters.
The shore hasn’t been reached!
Alas! The shore!
With every passing day: the yearning consumes me more!
With every drop of nectar,
Sweet sublime beauty,
The thirst becomes more.
My boat on cosmic waters,
Hasn’t reached the shore!
It’s already too late!
Day and night,
I drink ambrosia,
Dripping from the bosom of the lady divine;
Who dances blissfully in my heart,
This golden dance is genuine experience known as enlightenment,
When it reveals itself,
The ego is subdued by the bliss,
It’s like reading a book of bliss forever!
My significant other is
The mystic dancer,
It has no other!
It’s the only one.
It’s the blissful experience,
Agent; experiencing and its result,
It’s an eternal mystery.
There’s nothing which transcends it.
Though it’s true;
I long for this human journey to end,
With greater and greater intensity,
Every passing day–
The mystical search ends
When the unique dancer
Reveals itself in your heart.
You taste delicious ambrosia.
This mystic dancer has enslaved me!
I think only about it,
I talk only about it,
I long only for this union,
It tastes sweet, sounds sweet, feels sweet;
This ancient dancer is limitless,
It dances in the golden hall of gnosis,
It is ambrosia,
It doesn’t judge,
It’s all goodness,
1. I have begun the third iteration of registering books in library.
2. Took some time to read Vinoba Bhaave’s commentary on Vedas.
3. Last few days have been interesting self discovery.
4. This mystic dance which fills every inch of space within and without is my sole object of study and search now. It’s musical and it’s sweet like nectar. It’s a conscious living presence. In fact: all living presence emanates from it.
5. The mystic dance is the player who does and undoes and yet it’s not a doer. It’s beyond human perception as far as its comprehension is concerned.
6. When it reveals itself as your innermost core of being: it takes away your ego structures. Your belief in your identity is turned upside down. Either thoughts or this takes your attention. The more it takes your attention: thoughts begin to reduce. This reveals itself as a vibrant field which eliminates all unwanted thoughts and ideas.
7. In that sense: even the most holy thoughts are thrown out of your system. Deleted. Forgotten. You can’t comprehend it until it happens. When it happens: you wonder whether it was really you who believed in those things.
8. Identities are make-believe ego structures. We assume certain roles and responsibilities and often make them our lives. When touch with pure unfettered consciousness is lost the reality asserts itself and it often seems like great suffering. Then you begin to drop those assumed roles and responsibilities: it’s interpreted as returning towards simplicity. It’s reality of pure being in action.