Fickle Things
These are the futile moments
Where the peace that You have granted
Flies away into temptations;
In unwisdom it gets planted.
For such fickle things as these
I tear myself from You.
With burnt-out histories and crazy ideas,
You disappear from view.
You graced me with the right
To choose what is wrong,
But now I see the light
And I know where I belong.
It seems a gentle balance
That a Yogi has to find,
To keep You always close at heart,
In thought and word and mind.
I look to Your eternal eyes,
Am faced with my mistakes.
To clear the aching false desires,
The ego here must break.
I wish today to turn back time,
And choose a wiser path,
To catch myself the instant that
My blindness turned to wrath.
I wish that I could see myself
When I’m thinking as a fool,
Pull myself back into line,
To Your auspicious rule.
I now must take tapasya
To strengthen what is weak,
To find instead the innocence
And purity that I seek.
Forgive me, Mother, for the times today
I forgot to see what’s true,
For ignorance in thoughts and words
I wish I could undo.
I’m tired of having days like this;
Please give me pure desire,
To stop my mind from wandering
and indulging in the Maya.
Melissa Richard
(Photograph: National Parks and Wildlife, Australia)
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1 comment October 17th, 2007
