Arthur Osborne

To feel, to know, to be the Christ within — Can there then be love for Christ on earth, Walking like men, seen as a man is seen? Seek not to argue ; love has greater worth. Love makes man kin With the Beloved. Such have I known, Him of the lustrous eyes, Him whose sole look Pierced to the heart, wherein the seed was sown Of wisdom deeper than in holy book, Of truth alone Not to be learned but lived, Truth in its hour To sprout within the heart’s dark, wintry earth And grow a vibrant thing, then, come to power, To slay the seeming self that gave it birth, Or to devour. Heart of my heart, seen outwardly as one In human form, to draw my human love, Lord Ramana, Guru, the risen Sun, Self manifest, the guide of all who rove, Lost and alone, In tangled thoughts and vain imaginings, Back to pure Being, which your radiant smile, Full of compassion for my wanderings, Tells me I always was, though lost this while In a world of things.

Ahad

Before the beginning He was, Beyond the ending He is, Hidden in the heart of man, Flared forth in a myriad stars and a bird’s song. Unchanged and unbegun, Unfellowed, He, the One, The All He is, the Alone, Otherness but a dream gone on too long.

The Wind

I am a pipe the wind blows through, Be still, it is the wind that sings. The course of my life and the things that I do And the seeming false and the seeming true Are the tune of the wind that neither knows Good and ill, nor joys and woes. But the ultimate awe is deeper yet Than song or pipe or storm; For pipe and tune are the formless wind That seemed for a while to take form. And words are good to escape from words And strife to escape from strife, But silence drinks in all the waves Of song and death and life.