Psalms From and of the Beyond. Saturday's Inspiration 16

Speaking in the Bagavad Gita, Sri Krishna tells us quite clearly that the soul is immortal:

"Weapons cannot cleave the soul;

Fire cannot burn the soul;

Wind cannot dry the soul;

Water cannot drench the soul."

In his lofty prose below, Sri Chinmoy takes it even further:

“Your soul has a special mission. Your soul is supremely conscious of it.
Maya, illusion or forgetfulness, makes you feel that you are finite, weak and helpless. This is not true. You are not the body. You are not the senses. You are not the mind. These are all limited. You are the soul, which is unlimited. Your soul is infinitely powerful. Your soul defies all time and space.” -Sri Chinmoy

Guruji then goes on to compare us with the deer who has musk in its own body, yet it goes around looking for it, not knowing that this musk is coming from itself:

“…The deer grows musk in his own body. He smells it and becomes enchanted, and tries to locate its source. He runs and runs, but he cannot find the source. In his endless search, he loses all his energy and finally he dies. But the source he was so desperately searching for was within himself. How could he find it elsewhere?

Such is the case with you. Your special mission, which is the fulfilment of your divinity, Is not outside you, but within you. Search within. Meditate within. You will discover your mission….” -Sri Chinmoy

These poems speak of the immortality and deathlessness of life. I hope that it can give hope to many who are grieving or may be crying for loved ones, now residing in the inner realms of the Supreme.

Why do you mourn, dear one, where have I gone?

Here there is neither sorrow; nor disdain.

One’s body pales, compared to the Beyond --

The sweetest song of Heaven’s dancing gain.

This frame which once a peerless pearl did hold,

No more a caged bird fettered, free I fly.

Cannot enforce new shackles on the soul,

Now in resplendent Heaven’s soaring sky.

The priceless fragrance in my mother’s love,

His breath did kiss and mercy glowed within.

Your toil and sacrifice, below, above,

Grace from His body flowed to kith and kin.

Why do you mourn dear one; cute mother cries?

The soul’s immortal Spirit never dies.

-Manatita, The Lantern Carrier. 4^th December, 2018.

Awakening The Inner Light

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave bereft
I am not there. I have not left.

Mary Elizabeth Frye

Come, sweet death,

Let us continue our game of hide and seek.

You veil thyself in winter’s night;

Come ablaze in the temple of the sun.

I yearn for a goblet of wine,

The taste of which will seize this breath,

Carrying a river of perennial joy to Jordan.

Long have I traversed this stream of current,

Punched and battered by turbulent waves.

Stripped naked of all pretensions,

My travails with pain and sorrow,

Has worn my ego thin.

Now I rise in the darkness;

Give glory to fireflies and shooting stars.

Come, sweet death!

On the Elysian lap of Love, I rise.

I hear the bugle blow, as the minstrels chant your glory.

I float on visionary memories for the bliss to come.

Come, sweet death!

My silvery cord’s unanchored.

An ocean of rapture now engulfs my Soul;

I’m coming HOME once more. -Manatita