Poetry Archive
Tinderbox
i often wondered what i would save in the event of a fire we all stared in shock and disbelief rooted to the concrete pavement as menacing black crouching dragons mushroomed bombing the shivering horizon spewing red
Desire Management
Controlling your desires is not like riding a bike. You don’t do it once and then know how to do it forever. It’s not like driving a standard-shift vehicle. If you can drive one,
A Rose for the Lord
When the bud was born In the daylight morn The bud opened a bit To see the world around it. It was a rose In such repose It shone too bright In the lovely
The Ninth Embrace
I walked all the way from America to India over the nine jeweled path of devotion that leads to Your feet each translucent step a spiral staircase winding thru’ wondrous solar and lunar sprayed galaxies
Sai Never Can Say Goodbye
Sonya Ki has just returned from a very long and enjoyable trip with Baba. This is what she penned down before leaving Parthi. Monsoon tears flash flood the temple tiles desperately I clasp the
The Question and the Answer
Do you remember when you chose? The time when you chose this life The day you chose these lessons The moment you chose your parents The second you chose to be You Why do
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
I Was the Guest
It was Thursday, full moon, night, eight o’clock; He was reading a page of this monthly then! Baba ‘stood’ in concrete form, rose-bud smile and grace He saw Him, clear: robe, lotus eyes, and
Sai Geetha—Anjali
I wake to the gong; I echo the Om! I am the lucky elephant babe That came on wheels to this heavenly place! I bathe; I pray; I go the sacred round; I bow
Oh Baba!
O Baba! let my anger die; O Baba! let my soul ever lie; High above the mundane level So that it may all in bliss revel. Baba! my anger is my bitterest enemy; He
The Lord’s Seva
Every month or two, I come to the computer often under stress To edit or proof the newsletter But this is my seva, my mind reminds me, not supposed to be done under duress
One Look
One look from You makes even a wretch worthy of grace. I catch myself yearning to …find the time, …make the arrangements, …save the money, …take the trip Maybe for just one look of
