I see a mountain from my window,
Standing like an ancient sage,
Desireless, full of love.
So many trees and so many flowers,
They plunder the mountain all the time.
Its attention is not disturbed.
And when the rain pours like many pitchers of clouds bursting,
And it fills the mountain with greenery.
The storms may come soaring,
Filling the lake with compassion,
And the rivers flow running down,
Towards the calling sea.
The sun will create clouds and
Wind carries on its feathery wings,
The rain on to the mountain.
This is the eternal play,
The mountain sees,
H.H. Shri Mataji Nirmala Devi.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
I see a mountain
at 1:48 AM