The Golden Touch of His Feet

(“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 I am the goal.
I pray that every breath I take and step I walk
will lead me that much closer.

Yet I know that it is not my feet that make progress.
I know that the pilgrimage even, is not real

For, Thy feet touched by my heart ,
are the means I have for reaching;
attention placed on the image of Thy sole
to my soul, the means to realize

Realize what?
That the shrine is love without limits

Let me welcome Your play, not shun it
be self‑effacive, not Self evasive

Let me appreciate, enjoy, your plan
not shirk it. Let me be more appropriate

Expansive is the way, the way to freedom.
Appropriate me

Make me shake off the worries,
the fears, the cringing, the shrinking

Cure me of the sickness of half-heartedness
hesitation, petty reluctance

Open me, use me, wear me out doing Your work
till there is no me and as a leaf falls
and merges with the earth, let my ego decompose
that I may become one with Your solid
unsullied substance invisible

Wherever I may wander I am always at Thy feet
Thy lotus feet are my refreshment, my shelter
from the storms, my journey’s meaning, my goal

May I ever feel within my heart
sweetly dancing, Thy lotus feet

Impression after impression
of pressing engagements
of leisure and tension
bear down on my mind, but trackless is Thine
infinite heart, and Thy feet dance
all colors away.

When You throw me for a loop of seeming
loss‑of‑center, let me know that You’re within
me, let me find Your shelter feet

—Bill Jackson
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, June 1978