Om

There is nothing new under the sun.
But equally, all is new.
All is stamped by Your Handprint.
Each leaf contains the fractal pattern of all,
and the presene of each flows from your presence divine.

There are no words for leaves or flowers,
Yet we stamp and stop at the word, saying thus
is all there is, missing the essence,
and feeling not
the connection to any of nature's limbs.

All my life stems and flows from the
channels and currents which come from Your Mind.
How lazy I am to never search you out.
But this my thought, my image, dream:
your eye is the sun. Your other eye the moon.
And yet in your gentle embrace, you hold Radha.

And from You Two all others take their all.
Their example, their ideal, and from ideal
their form. And from their form their soul.

And I speak of love and air and angels.
I am but a flickering speck of dust,
so fragile is my life.
How grateful I am, for You to have shown me Your face.
You graced me with you mercy, and I was graced with the presence of true vision.

There before me you are, smiling,
sitting on a lotus. Thus, you say,
is the nature of all.
Each perceived form, this computer,
a leaf, a flower, the fold in this blanket,
is but a false illusion.
What each comes from is a fractal stemming from Your Divine.
Each is but a lotus flower, all is of this nature,
all is of the nature of the ocean of bliss of your mercy;
Lotus flowers made of Buddha.

This is my own private sutra, of the infinite light,
of the play of your light.
Jaya Hari Om!