The Hills of Puttaparthi

1.

The Hills of Puttaparthi

Grey, rugged, stately, they stand, timeless, and serene:
The morning sun turns them into a slate-blue wall,
And in the soft rays of the setting sun, they glow
With fast-changing tints of a ravishing rainbow.
They tell of old feuds, of man’s love and hate,
Of the unbroken drama of his passion and grief.
Perhaps in some dark caves amidst their rocky slopes,
Above the gurgling waters of the meandering streams,
Lived the Seers who had seen God face to face,
And taught to weary mankind the Peace of the spirit.
They still stand, the grey, rugged, stately hills
Serene, above the valley of green fields and tiny hamlets.
And in the Valley, itself, a new Miracle is on.
The Divine Formless in a human form has arisen,
Teaching the ancient wisdom to seekers far and near.
Unwearied, compassionate, His clarion-call He sounds:
Awake and listen! For a new Voice in accents clear,
Reverberates through these grey, rugged, and stately hills.

2.

 He Speaks

He speaks and His words caress the spirit
Like the soft petals of a new-blossomed flower.
He smiles and the ripples of that smile spread
Unto the far reaches of the afflicted heart.
The veiled mystery of birth and death,
The soul’s perplexity and the spirit’s caverned gloom
Are driven away with magic wave of His hand
Raised to cheer to bless and to sustain
Lonely pilgrim life’s rugged and thorny way.

                                                                               ~H. Sunder Rao
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, July 1964