Let the prodigal return.....

A yawning gulf between
My vision-tree and my reality-plant.

A yawning gulf between
The place I love to live and the place I live.
I love to live under the vault of heaven.
Alas, my existence lives
In the valley of the shadow of death.
Peace has escaped my remembrance;
Delight, too.

But I know a swing of the pendulum
Will change my face and fate.
My surrender supreme
Shall marry my dream-boat
With my reality-shore.

                                            -Shri Chinmoy.

O Lord! lift this dark veil, so I may see the light. Let the light of knowledge shine on me once more. Let the cool breeze of freedom kiss my forehead. Let me fill my lungs with the scent of my earth. Let me hear the birds chirping outside my window. Let me hear the midday siren calling people to lunch. Let me watch the wenches pass with bundles of firewood on their head, on lazy lazy afternoons. Let me see the goat browse on my hedge. Let me see the sunset over the tea gardens, the sunrise in the mist. Let me hear the pitter-patter of rain drops on my asbestos roof. Let me hear the woodpecker pecking on the Bael tree. Let my eyes water with the smoke of the evening dhoop.

Lead me out of this jungle, O Lord. Release my soul from this prison of falsity. Shake me out of this noetic coma, invigorate my moribund intellect. The prodigal son has learnt his lesson; let me return home O Lord!