I marvel the magic of the Maker,
who hid me under the leaves,
so no rain or shine may wash me out,
or erase me from the earth!
I know not who my mother is,
nor do I know who had fathered me,
I am an orphan now –
nay, I’ve a greater father and mother,
who cares for me each night and day.
In His eternal plan,
every one has a little function;
however small it may be.
My parents had their own,
and I look forward to mine
with patient expectation.
He holds me in his palms
every morning, noon and eve,
and kisses me good night
as the sun sets in the west!
Could I ever think of a better mother,
than the merciful Maker?
That’s why I have no worry,
even as I count my hours
to be released from the shell
and see the wonders of this world!
Under his protection
every thing falls in its place,
I am filled with awe and wonder
and raise my little voice
to sing his praises.
My little life is too short
to adequately thank the Master,
and even a thousand births
would be too short to thank Him –
for this wonderful miracle
he manifests every moment!
But my troubled heart knows
too many fears and worries
shroud her night and day;
Peace is in Paradise,
everyone whisper in my ears,
and I turn to them with disbelief,
for I know peace is here in my heart,
and the one who made me
fashioned me as a lover of peace,
what do I need to fear, then?
But the world is too cruel,
I can hear everyone cry
and I can see all around me
splashes of blood –
the fruit of disbelief and disobedience,
even today brings havoc on earth,
and even we are hapless victims,
then who cares for us,
but the benevolent Maker!
I hold on to him tightly,
lest I fall from his grip;
I have nothing to fear,
nothing to worry at all;
so long I remain in Him,
and he remains with me, in me!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Stink of Sin
I can scarcely understand
how sin entered into the world!
This is something I know not
nor is it what bothers us,
the winged fairies,
spreading the spirit of fraternity,
love and peace all around.
Even as I am laid on leaves
which would feed me for days,
good nature is there beside me
to hold me in her gentle palms,
and let me be warmed by her heart,
to see life anew –
from the egg to see light!
What a joyous moment for me
to come out of the shell,
to enter into the wonderful world!
I could still hear the cry
of the by-standers yelling at me –
why are you born here?
There’s no place for you
in our tiny little world!
The wicked people stand by me
even as I emerge out of the egg!
No one bothers to help me –
neither my parents, nor relatives.
It’s a lonesome journey,
and alone will I discover
every nook and cranny of this world.
There is enough room for me
to curse everyone on earth,
for turning a blind eye on me,
for letting me find my own way!
This is not the world I imagined,
even as I contemplated with Hamlet
to be or not to be!
This is not the paradise
which Adam and Eve lost,
and which I decided to regain!
There’s sin stinking all around,
and even the people look at me
as if I am the stink!
Alas, they know not stink is in them,
and I am by a sympathizer,
who would help them get out
of the wretchedness the lived in,
if only they were ready for it.
Even as the angels ventured
to walk out of the heaven’s gates,
I was there to stop them for a while,
and ask them this moot question :
Beasts can’t understand beauty,
let alone appreciate it;
what made the beauty into beasts?
Even as they pondered over this,
I was sure of one thing –
sin still stinks in the world.
Even the virtuous bear the stink,
and I look at the Master longingly
to send showers of mercy on them,
to wash the sinful stink away,
and bring back beauty into the world!
how sin entered into the world!
This is something I know not
nor is it what bothers us,
the winged fairies,
spreading the spirit of fraternity,
love and peace all around.
Even as I am laid on leaves
which would feed me for days,
good nature is there beside me
to hold me in her gentle palms,
and let me be warmed by her heart,
to see life anew –
from the egg to see light!
What a joyous moment for me
to come out of the shell,
to enter into the wonderful world!
I could still hear the cry
of the by-standers yelling at me –
why are you born here?
There’s no place for you
in our tiny little world!
The wicked people stand by me
even as I emerge out of the egg!
No one bothers to help me –
neither my parents, nor relatives.
It’s a lonesome journey,
and alone will I discover
every nook and cranny of this world.
There is enough room for me
to curse everyone on earth,
for turning a blind eye on me,
for letting me find my own way!
This is not the world I imagined,
even as I contemplated with Hamlet
to be or not to be!
This is not the paradise
which Adam and Eve lost,
and which I decided to regain!
There’s sin stinking all around,
and even the people look at me
as if I am the stink!
Alas, they know not stink is in them,
and I am by a sympathizer,
who would help them get out
of the wretchedness the lived in,
if only they were ready for it.
Even as the angels ventured
to walk out of the heaven’s gates,
I was there to stop them for a while,
and ask them this moot question :
Beasts can’t understand beauty,
let alone appreciate it;
what made the beauty into beasts?
Even as they pondered over this,
I was sure of one thing –
sin still stinks in the world.
Even the virtuous bear the stink,
and I look at the Master longingly
to send showers of mercy on them,
to wash the sinful stink away,
and bring back beauty into the world!
Monday, February 25, 2008
Call of the Color
Beauty all around I see,
enchanting elements fill the earth
and I’m but a tiny tod
toiling all night and day
to make the world a better place –
with sprinkling of life and color
all along my path –
maybe one day the Cindrellas
may find the way to the Creator,
the source of all goodness.
If my little song of praise
to the wonderful Creator,
who’s painted me with
a million hues and shades,
is sweet enough for Him,
what more would I need
than to live in His presence,
and surrender my life to Him!
Our lives are too short to grumble,
even before I find my way
the road is half done,
and I can see the horizon
beckoning me each moment.
I can’t say, but wait a moment
or like Doctor Faustus cry aloud
for yet another month, one more week,
one more day, or one more hour…
Everything on this beautiful world
is at my disposal now,
to praise the Eternal Lord,
for this undeserved gift of life –
the flowers, the trees, the wind,
the grass and the fruits…
Even as I behold each blossom,
in my tender hands each day,
I know what I really want!
Those lovely blossoms out there,
with a wicked design
buried deep in their bones,
I sense it from afar
and keep them at arm’s length,
lest they lead me to doom!
As much as every one helps me
to reach the Lord of my heart,
to praise and reverence Him,
I make use of them.
Then, what’s my little life,
but an offering of selfless love
to the one who made me
in his image and likeness –
If my short life can speak volumes,
of his bounty and mercy,
why need I a long life?
If my dumb mouth can
raise a melody from deep within,
why need I a cucoo’s voice?
Let me then be your hand,
to reach the unreached,
your lips to speak for the voiceless,
your eyes to show path to the blind,
your legs to traverse the untrodden path,
your heart to embrace the unloved!
enchanting elements fill the earth
and I’m but a tiny tod
toiling all night and day
to make the world a better place –
with sprinkling of life and color
all along my path –
maybe one day the Cindrellas
may find the way to the Creator,
the source of all goodness.
If my little song of praise
to the wonderful Creator,
who’s painted me with
a million hues and shades,
is sweet enough for Him,
what more would I need
than to live in His presence,
and surrender my life to Him!
Our lives are too short to grumble,
even before I find my way
the road is half done,
and I can see the horizon
beckoning me each moment.
I can’t say, but wait a moment
or like Doctor Faustus cry aloud
for yet another month, one more week,
one more day, or one more hour…
Everything on this beautiful world
is at my disposal now,
to praise the Eternal Lord,
for this undeserved gift of life –
the flowers, the trees, the wind,
the grass and the fruits…
Even as I behold each blossom,
in my tender hands each day,
I know what I really want!
Those lovely blossoms out there,
with a wicked design
buried deep in their bones,
I sense it from afar
and keep them at arm’s length,
lest they lead me to doom!
As much as every one helps me
to reach the Lord of my heart,
to praise and reverence Him,
I make use of them.
Then, what’s my little life,
but an offering of selfless love
to the one who made me
in his image and likeness –
If my short life can speak volumes,
of his bounty and mercy,
why need I a long life?
If my dumb mouth can
raise a melody from deep within,
why need I a cucoo’s voice?
Let me then be your hand,
to reach the unreached,
your lips to speak for the voiceless,
your eyes to show path to the blind,
your legs to traverse the untrodden path,
your heart to embrace the unloved!
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Quo Vadis?
The immortal words of the Master
addressing his affectionate disciple Peter
still ring in my ears;
my journey is begun,
but have I become conscious of
where I really want to go?
Let me not lose track of my journey,
one that would determine
where I really reach.
It’s not so easy as yet
to know for sure
if I will ever reach my destination,
for it is not a place
that I am moving towards,
but a mental disposition,
a journey to the inner recesses
of my very own heart…
Fear and anxiety stop me
at every step I put forward,
and they look at me questioningly,
as if I have lost my senses
to undertake this arduous journey…
They even site those immortal words
of Dante on the doors of Il Inferno,
Lose all hope
all who enter here!
They tease and chide me,
but they know for sure,
I am not the one to give up so easily,
WHERE AM I GOING?
I ask myself,
and I could hear from within
deep groaning of my heart,
to encounter the Lord of my soul,
and surrender my self to Him
in humble supplication
so that I might come back
with his eyes, his ears, his hands
to reach out to the broken humanity,
still longing for his eyes,
his ears and his hands!
Only He can make me his,
his re-presentative,
purifying all that is impure in me,
making me his own self.
This the grace I ask of Him,
leaving behind all that I have,
as I enter into the cave of my heart,
the heart of my cave…
to find the Lord awaiting me
Here I am Lord,
I have come to do your will…
To listen to your spirit,
To see your wondrous works,
To feel your gentle touch,
To taste your eternal banquet,
To smell the frangrance of your soul
It’s you,
and only you I long for,
and I need nothing else.
addressing his affectionate disciple Peter
still ring in my ears;
my journey is begun,
but have I become conscious of
where I really want to go?
Let me not lose track of my journey,
one that would determine
where I really reach.
It’s not so easy as yet
to know for sure
if I will ever reach my destination,
for it is not a place
that I am moving towards,
but a mental disposition,
a journey to the inner recesses
of my very own heart…
Fear and anxiety stop me
at every step I put forward,
and they look at me questioningly,
as if I have lost my senses
to undertake this arduous journey…
They even site those immortal words
of Dante on the doors of Il Inferno,
Lose all hope
all who enter here!
They tease and chide me,
but they know for sure,
I am not the one to give up so easily,
WHERE AM I GOING?
I ask myself,
and I could hear from within
deep groaning of my heart,
to encounter the Lord of my soul,
and surrender my self to Him
in humble supplication
so that I might come back
with his eyes, his ears, his hands
to reach out to the broken humanity,
still longing for his eyes,
his ears and his hands!
Only He can make me his,
his re-presentative,
purifying all that is impure in me,
making me his own self.
This the grace I ask of Him,
leaving behind all that I have,
as I enter into the cave of my heart,
the heart of my cave…
to find the Lord awaiting me
Here I am Lord,
I have come to do your will…
To listen to your spirit,
To see your wondrous works,
To feel your gentle touch,
To taste your eternal banquet,
To smell the frangrance of your soul
It’s you,
and only you I long for,
and I need nothing else.
Journey of the Butterfly - An Intro
Here is something that might surprise a person who wishes to learn a lesson from nature; what St Ignatius of Loyola has recommended to a person in search of God's will in his/her life, is very much the same as the journey of a butterfly, who starts its journey from being an egg, caterpillar after being hatched, pupa and then a full-fledged butterfly. The four stages could be likened to that of the four weeks of the Spiritual Exercises of the great master.
What we shall try in the forthcoming Blogs is to capture the spirit of St Ignatius as far as it applies to the butterfly, who for all practical purposes represents all that is noble and beautiful in the world. Therefore it is a journey in companionship with the butterfly, and perhaps we shall find that the butterfly will have many things to share with us.
The human beings can never boast about their superiority, when it comes to common sense and wisdom; perhaps the nature around us is ample evidence that the birds and animals are far more wiser than us, the mortals. After all, how do we estimate the wisdom of a person; it is not so much in the knowledge acquisition, but in being satisfied with what they have learned from life. Thus the butterfly may give us medicine for the thousand maladies that haunt the human world. Are we ready to embark on this journey?
What we shall try in the forthcoming Blogs is to capture the spirit of St Ignatius as far as it applies to the butterfly, who for all practical purposes represents all that is noble and beautiful in the world. Therefore it is a journey in companionship with the butterfly, and perhaps we shall find that the butterfly will have many things to share with us.
The human beings can never boast about their superiority, when it comes to common sense and wisdom; perhaps the nature around us is ample evidence that the birds and animals are far more wiser than us, the mortals. After all, how do we estimate the wisdom of a person; it is not so much in the knowledge acquisition, but in being satisfied with what they have learned from life. Thus the butterfly may give us medicine for the thousand maladies that haunt the human world. Are we ready to embark on this journey?
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