I want to be smaller
Like a dust particle
Wich moves with the wind
It goes everywhere
Sit on the head of the king
Or can go
And fall at the feet of someone
And it can go
And sit everywhere
But I want to be particle of dust
That is fragrant
That is nourishing
That is enlightening.
-- poetry written by Shri Mataji in childhood
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
-- poetry written by Shri Mataji in Cabella watching the mountain from the room.
Garden of Flowers
Do not go into the garden of flowers
O friend, go not there.
In your body is the garden of flowers.
Take your seat on the thousand petals of lotus
and there gaze upon the infinite beauty.
There is a strange tree,
which stands without roots,
bears fruits without blossoming.
It has no branches and no leaves.
It is Lotus all over.
Two birds sing there:
One is the Guru and the other the disciple.
The disciple chooses the manifold fruits of life
and tastes them
And the Guru beholds him in joy.