Sai Baba

Dear Baba—may this poem be sincere,
Flowers of words for my Master dear,
A humble expression in delicate hue,
Those many vivid images, yet so few!

At dawn the ashram in fine mist was suffused,
In temples quivered oil lamps, gods were enthused,
Embraced by a river and sprawling cloudy hills,
It was a mood an impressionist painting spills.

Into a paradise hurled, and not knowing why,
Where palm breezes swept a pink morning sky,
Absorbing the fragrance of the silent hour,
Till a yearning flute took ecstatic power!

After detours of miles, short circuit of nooks,
Through valleys of lifetimes and alleys of books,
From the corners of the earth, as if fleeing—
They came in flocks to experience Your Being.

Reasons differed, but their search made rhyme,
A spectacle unfolded from a biblical time,
On the field of heart, faith and doubt roared,
Would I see God, or never see God?

You came like perfume—bliss settled around,
Your ochre robe gently brushed the ground,
Upon it Your Form so sweet, seemed floating—
And into the sunset, multitudes kept bloating.

Was here the Man whose answers I was seeking,
Would science prevail, and this vision be fleeting?
Then You came, turned, smiled, and understood.
If nothing remained ever, I realized—You would!

“Wherefore did you come”? You started a conversation,
Your omniscience was clear—then why the question?
For You it was not important—my city or state,
“Stay here,” You welcomed, “for ‘tis My grace!”

I was to learn later, what grace really meant,
But in that moment, I indeed was overwhelmed.
In a sea of humanity, with a pulse of love caught,
‘Pearls’ exchanged that in no bazaar could be bought.

The dilemma of galaxies—that always haunted me,
Shifted the paradigm to explore my own identity,
My head at Your feet swept body-consciousness away,
I entered a journey in humility’s surrendering ways.

Minds through which many anxieties had raced—
Now condensed softly in the most still of space…
From a realm of silence, You sang a universe!
Then came Your discourse for intellects to immerse.

Your song shook souls, heavens made strain,
As if streams went rippling in rhythms of rain,
Through a flash of lightning, an equation shone—
My Master was here, and the certainty, I belong!

~Mala Saxena
Stony Brook, New York, USA

Print Friendly, PDF & Email