In the postcards the river still looks wide and peaceful like a lake reflecting the sky. Appearances are deceptive. She has ceased to flow. I fear she is going to die. The people who loved her were driven off. All those musical names they gave her we forgot. Such a quiet river she was until her

The Earth and all it contains The Universe and all that dwell therein, All belongs to Mother. She is the source, there is no other. From Her all has come forth The life in matter, Her sacred breath. She has founded Her creation in the seas And brought it forward for God to please. Who will asc

ENDURING I am a child I am told And I am surprised I have grown old. Looking through the lens Of returning pain Was there any sense? Was it all in vain? Becoming something else Can make you crazy But becoming oneself Is not very easy. But then I realize And it is for sure To get the true prize W

libellule lullabies lilting flight of dragonflies on a lily’s bell alight

“Those who live in illusion have the illusion to live.” Grégoire de Kalbermatten I used to sing, accompanying myself on guitar in Open Mic nights in New York bars. The MC in Irvington New York, before allowing me to perform, asked, “What’s your genre?” “Songs I wrote.” “You gotta have

Chapter One : Transformation. I’d read a Tobias Woolf short story in the New Yorker magazine about how he, while a Rhodes scholar at Oxford University, on a wet Wednesday evening had gone with a friend to a cold drafty church to watch Winter Light, the Ingmar Bergman movie, and how, in the disc

The Voice of Our Mother comes like a conch, echoing through the field of the soul: "You, my son," She says "Have written for saints for so many years. Today, you sit down now. You write. Write for your country that needs you." And thus, this Ballad of "Amerigo" shall be born, and it will have the vi

Written amidst the shimmering dawn, when the Union of the Spirit shines forth from our hearts. And like the Great Eagle's wings, we rise to meet it. O, Sages of Sahitya, we go beyond the crowns of mountains, the rushing of seas, to meet our Guru whose Form is above the sunlight and the sky. We rise

Webster’s says it’s close or continued thought. What if it’s the opposite? - thoughtless awareness. Either/or never had or has appeal. Both/and did and does Ananya bhakti - when there is not the other You’re American, I’m Irish and American You’re Zoroastrian, Jew, Jain, Hindu, Christian, Muslim

Whispered by the Mother of the World upon an Autumn night, filled with stars. Her Steps graced the heart of a little poet. And, to Her Child in Her Arms, She told him: A Mother once spoke to Her Child: "Dear One, My heart is alight With Your Light. Behold the universe, swirling within, Garland of

He was one of us but different He met her in Moscow, she was like him, different too. Her first thought was, “this is my husband“. It took him somewhat longer to reach the same conclusion, at least five minutes. It was how he felt. He knew he’d never known this before They barely spoke, for words

The fish who first crawled on to terra firma must’ve felt confused The first sound they heard was rhythm The rhythm of the waves The gentle sshh of ebb and flow, perhaps a stormy cataclysm And the fetus in a mother’s womb It was rhythm too that it first heard Heartbeat, ba boom, ba boom, ba boom

Will you love me forever Will you love me forever Lioudmila Chibirikova?* Will you love me forever Lioudmila Chibirikova? I just met you today but I’ve loved you for lifetimes Will you love me forever my Siberian queen? I care not a whit if your father’s a rich man That the blood of a Cou

Sunday, April 9, 1995 New Delhi airport Mr. Bhandari was a large, corpulent Sikh, and from what he said, a secular one. He wore a beautiful red turban and his beard was dyed jet black. Little bits, around the edges and notably under his skin were as white as the driven snow. He is in the ladies ga

Sunday, April 9, 1995, Kolkata airport 4 PM I had arranged with Mr. Kejriwal, the Sahaja leader of Kolkata, and confirmed by fax my time of arrival but there’s no one here. It’s at times like like this that one has to be detached. I phoned Mr. K’s house, the lady who answered didn’t speak English.

These are the sounds by which she is called, that holy land where I was born. They are the names which the land itself had been hearing for tens of thousands of years. Apparently it was all written down by Major Sir Thomas Livingston Mitchell, surveying the land in the 1830’s. He recorded the na

Water dreaming Water, Esther thought, has always been a strange element to me. I wonder if it’s because there are no planets in that element in my horoscope? Fanciful thought, but there it was. Large bodies of water always filled her with awe. Not being able to swim probably had something to do wit

Childhood Memories From A Belfast Front Window Drizzle, deceptive and subtle, soaks everything it touches, Seeps through crack and crevice, There’s a sense of permanence, this could last forever. Sometimes there’s a soft rain. Downpours bounce Off cement and paving slab, Splatter and splash back,

Ganesha Puja 2021 In the inland wind born from the fanning of the Lord’s ears. Gum trees, daughters of the Virgin Earth, dance for joy waving votive lights - their glittering leaves lit by the brilliance of the Son

This was a process, over time, but here’s an example. It was my first puja, Diwali 1991, in Cabella, Liguria, Italy. I was staying in a bar/pension in the town square. At some point, I’d mentioned to my friend and brother Ian Paradine that I could get a book published about Sahaja Yoga. In those

The sun is set. Colors are set free. And before the waves of the Shores of Yogeshwara speaks - Sudhama. Friend of the Lord, the Support of Life itself, he sees the glory of his friend. What does he say?: "O Kanha, You come before me as a Friend. Yet, when I hear Your footsteps I want to place flowe

||Aum Twameva Sakshat Shri Nirmala Naaradam Sakshat Shri Adi Shakti Mataji Shri Nirmala Devyai Namo Namah || This world bows eternally to Devarishi Naarad, whose Divinity is filled with the pureness of winds & rain. O, Beloved Son of Brahma, You are the One who walks forever. In Your glance th

To provide some context. This is the finale to a short story I plan on writing in the near future about a father and his family living in extreme poverty and under immense pressures from the society within which they dwell to conform to adharma. To follow the easier path that would provide them wit

He was one of us but different He met her in Moscow, she was like him, different too. Her first thought was, “this is my husband“. It took him somewhat longer to reach the same conclusion, at least five minutes. It was how he felt. He knew he’d never known this before They barely spoke, for words

Considering Rukmini (On reading R. C, Dere’s ‘Vitthal of Pandharpur’) I Krishna went to seek Rukmini, hiding in the tamarind grove. He left far-off Dwarka and sailed the broad black water, for where his queen abides, He must be. Beside the Bhim in Pandharpur, Rukmai sulked in termite mound. Kri

Ivan's finger danced along the dolak skins, crashing loud with thunderous strikes; trilling lightly along in fluttering rhythm. As he worked his instrument so too played on the harmonium, so too sung on the singer and so too flew forth the wood-wind of flute. All binding in rapturous synchrony, wor

... a gateway to the stars espied through soft golden moon-sun-shine and upon our ascent tripping silver-gold rungs we may perceive of a silent garden alive in Love rich with the ripened fruit of our becoming for this time we may stay ...

No Surrender, that bellowed mantra of an Orange Ulster childhood, But thankfully not in my case, It was heard not embraced. London, still September dawning, Golden Square Venerable, aged Chinese doing Tai Chi Elegance and grace, magic in the swirling mist A silent witness - me . Suddenly I saw He

It’s about 40°C, about as hot as it gets here in summertime. A visit to the Khadhi Bhavan revealed it to be incredibly dirty. The staff were sitting around talking to each other, it was difficult to attract someone’s eye to get attention or service. Gandhi, who’d been instrumental in founding thes

Sahaja yoga, A UNIQUE DISCOVERY “Sahaja” means ‘spontaneous’: you are born with it, it is your birthright. “Yoga” means ‘connection’. Connection with what/ with whom? Most forms of yoga have their origin in India. In essence they are meant to be spiritual, but from the 19th century on they have