Poetry Archive

In those countless moments of affliction You craved those balmy hands of love Straight out of thy pictured image And wiped my heart’s Unending tears And now in the sanctuary Of my tears Is

Thus it is: When sitting still On the side. of a mountain— An ancient, arena Of rugged reptile rock Carefully carved By the soothing stroke Of nurturing Nature. The Glory of People’s Toil Passes

My dearest SELF! Bear all; and Do nothing! Hear all; and Say nothing! Give all; and Take nothing! Serve all; and Be nothing.                      

The Crown of Glory, The matted monarch curl, The mighty multi-millioned strand, This ever-static eternal emblem of this God; This Sign of Him, who dances On the cold snow of congealed hearts; This Charm

Before Kali Yuga started, sweet Lord Krishna oft proclaimed “To this Earth again will I be born, when it is steeped in shame.” And thus it was so written, ‘pon the Gita’s golden page

Salutations and Worship! O Sanathana Sarathi! Abide in Thee, Peace and Tranquility! Nobly from the Pranava didst Thou cast a Universe as of fun; Ambitious, Thine enemies knew not that Thou bestowed them their

In the garden of my soul His Light walks, among the dark and troubled valleys, He soothes the stormy winds of anger, of anxiety, with the very whisper of His Being. Oh! that one

Ananda! O Ananda! With beauty comes new Ananda! With Ananda, new loveliness! Ananda! O Ananda! Premavahini poured Ananda; First it came from Baba’s hand! Dhyanavahini, He gave us next! And then to give our

(“In sorrow after sorrow, it is His steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden touch of His feet that makes my joy to shine” ~Tagore) I am the pilgrim and

When thou art happy, little one, Then Sai is thy companion gay Laughing with glee, roaring with mirth, Willing to join in thy innocent fun­— When thou art happy, little one. When thou art

I am a petal in the lotus of Baba’s Grace; I am a drop in the Ocean of Baba’s Compassion; I am a flower in the beautiful Baba’s Garland; I am a star in

There is no fear while He is so near; Still, my eyes are filled with tears! O—they are tears of joy, not grief. Sometimes it looks as if He does not glance at me