A few poems I wrote the other day. I just felt like writing, nothing more.
How can a child repay its mother
for bringing him up?
How can a disciple repay his spiritual mother
for showing him his Guru?
Even a lifetime of gratitude
would not be enough.
Since I am still a mother's child
and do not have full strength in my heart,
I know I cannot yet offer
a life complete of gratitude.
So I have resigned to writing poems.
Even if I do not know how to write,
you let me write
Even the occasional
You do so out of Your Compassion,
So that I may spend my time
thinking of You
and not my self.
How can I write anymore
if the pen in my hand
Can only move by a Force within me?
It is not I who write;
Writing is not for a caveman like me.
Writing is for the devotee who,
Even though he does not know anything
Still he wishes to worship You.
Once I tried to write a poem,
But I decided there was nothing to write about.
You have already written Everything.
Writing now would be
Like plucking a flower from a tree
And offering it to You.
You Yourself made the flower,
You Yourself made the tree,
You Yourself made me.
You opened a bakery and let me play
pretending I am the owner.
As the bread leavens,
So Your expectations of me grow.
Yet when they flourish,
I offer them to a customer
That they were born for You.
Today as I meditated
A stream of lines came.
As I hurriedly wrote them down
My pride grew and I forgot:
I forgot that it is You who made me,
You who woke me up,
You who made for me a shrine in the world,
You who made me meditate.
But you just *let* me write,
And I feel all responsible.
A flower lasts only so much,
But not You.
If we use the most beautiful words
for the flowers,
Then what words shall I use for You?
Everybody speaks of a garland of gratitude.
I must be honest. I never made one.
Or at least, not one totally befitting You.
Therefore, I keep on writing.
Once I cried for You
Because I could not see You,
I could not feel You.
It was all needless tears.
You were there all the time,
Like the light inside my room.
I had only closed my eyes.