To a saint in solitudeResiding in the solitary mountain caves,
thou hast passed the whole of thy time observing complete silence in incessant spiritual practices,
but what purpose is served thereby if the flower of love has not blossomed in thy heart?
Thou attained powers
by which thou could shake mountains,
and nothing could remain beyond thy compass
but what if the flower of love did not blossom in thy heart?
Thou achieved mastery over all, even over wisdom,
but did not acquire love
and inanimate and static as stone always preferred sinking in deep meditation:
but never tuned thy holy heart’s harp to the sweet song of human sympathy.
Of what avail is thy Yoga then?
Stop them weeping and provide solace to those that weep and cry.
Serve them with bread that are hunger-striken,
sacrifice thyself in order to break the bondages of those that are bound,
and render refuge to those that are destitute and weak.
It is thy fortune, O my beloved anchorite,
thou hast witnessed the lotus-like face of the Lord,
but has failed to realise His magnanimous or magnificent form of the universe.
Tell me then how far is thy Yoga essential?
- Shri Yogeshwarji