The door of my heart leads me
To the way of my Beloved.
Why would I sell my soul
To the worldly clutter,
When it belongs to the mirror
I see, everyday?

 

The haze is clearing up.
My fatigue is gone.
From the sublime brook arises
The essence of eternal Spring.
The wild rose that blows,
Gives me the sweetest fragrance.

 

Lasting the whole time,
A singular truth prevails.
To discover myself, wholly,
I must surrender to my Beloved.
His seen, unseen form is powered
By light of all kinds.

 

Why would I sell my soul
To the worldly clutter,
When it belongs to the mirror
I see, everyday?
The door of my heart leads me
To the way of my Beloved.

 

 

1st November 2012

                          

Geeta Chhabra