Guest guest Posted March 25, 2006 Report Share Posted March 25, 2006 >From "At the Feet of Bhagwan" T.K. Sundaresa Iyer (T.K.S) met Sri Ramana in 1908 when T.K.S was only a twelve year old boy. His cousin Krishnamurthy had been visiting Ramana Maharshi regularly and would sing songs of devotion to him. One day T.K.S asked his cousin where he went every day. Krishnamurthy told him about Ramana and said, "The Lord of the Hill Himself is sitting in human form, why don't you come with me." Both of them then climbed the Hill and went to Virupksha cave to visit the Sage. Now the story in T.K.S.'s own words: "I too climbed the Hill and found Bhagavan sitting on a stone slab, with about 10 devotees around him. Each would sing a song. Bhagavan turned to me and asked, "Well, won't you sing a song also." One of Sundramurthy's songs came to my mind and I sang it. It's meaning was, "No other support have I, except thy holy feet. By holding on to them, I shall win your grace. Great men sing your praise Oh, Lord. Grant that my tongue may repeat Thy name even when my mind strays.Yes. That is what must be done," said Bhagavan, and I took it to be his teaching for me. From that time on, I went to see him regularly for several years without missing a day. One day I wondered why I was visiting him at all. What was the use? There seemed to be no inner advancement. Going up the hill was meaningless toil. I decided to end my visits on the hill. For one hundred days exactly I did not see Bhagavan. On the hundred and first day I could suffer no longer and I ran to Skandasramam, above Virupaksha Cave. Bhagavan saw me climbing, got up and came forward to meet me. When I fell at his feet, I could not restrain myself and burst into tears. I clung to them and would not get up. Bhagavan pulled me up and asked: "It is over three months since I saw you. Where were you?'' I told him how I thought that seeing him was of no use. "All right,'' he said, "maybe it is of no use, so what? You felt the loss, did you not?'' Then I understood that we did not go to him for profit, but because away from him there was no life for us." >From "At the Feet of Bhagwan" by T.K. Sundaresa Iyer. -- community blog is at http://.net/blog/ "Love itself is the actual form of God." Sri Ramana In "Letters from Sri Ramanasramam" by Suri Nagamma Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted March 25, 2006 Report Share Posted March 25, 2006 , Harsha wrote: >"Then I understood that we did not go to him for profit, but because away from him there was no life for us." That's the way I feel about Mazie. Last night two moon-white moths collided in mid-flight and fell into the dark mind that waits for me, patiently, it could be you, my dark lover, it must be you, what else could be so final, so dark, embroidered with pale embers of stars and all their fading light? Is this home? Do we all fall home? We once were born into time but only the light changed. Incandescent wings navigate the star debris with a mysterious movement that brings tears to my eyes, and in the morning I find two drops of dried blood on my crumpled pillow. I am not curious, I know myself enough to not fall back to sleep. In my sleep, I seem to find you, we dance like moths, moon-white moths, translucent wings making fin-like motions, leaving milky-white swaths of flotsam and star-shine in our wake. Sky watchers are confounded, and then fall back to sleep. Everyone falls back to sleep, yet we remain awake, alert in the dark, our fading light illuminating the secret place where moths are born to gratify the darkness. In this way, our innocent blood drips into the night and grants the world the power to exist. It is not our world, it never was. You whisper to me on our pillow, and when our eyes meet, we know something more true than sleep, more true than blood, though it is dark, and we are dying. We do not fear this death -- we must not -- for it is nothing, only a movement of moth-like wings, whirring into the velvet darkness, into the black-lacquer light. LoveAlways Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted March 26, 2006 Report Share Posted March 26, 2006 Thank you Bob and Mazie for being here and sharing immortality of being. We are all in this together and we are together. Love, spoken or unspoken is still love. In words and in silence, the love which permeates both and transcends them is the heart of being. Our own heart. Love, Harsha Bob OHearn wrote: > , > Harsha wrote: > > > >"Then I understood that we did not go to him for profit, > but because away from him there was no life for us." > > > That's the way I feel about Mazie. > > > Last night two moon-white moths collided > in mid-flight and fell into the dark mind > that waits for me, patiently, it could be > you, my dark lover, it must be you, > what else could be so final, so > dark, embroidered with pale > embers of stars and all > their fading light? > > Is this home? > Do we all fall home? > > We once were born into time > but only the light changed. > > Incandescent wings navigate the star debris > with a mysterious movement that brings > tears to my eyes, and in the morning > I find two drops of dried blood > on my crumpled pillow. > > I am not curious, > I know myself enough > to not fall back to sleep. > > In my sleep, I seem to find you, > we dance like moths, moon-white moths, > translucent wings making fin-like motions, > leaving milky-white swaths of flotsam > and star-shine in our wake. > > Sky watchers are confounded, and > then fall back to sleep. > > Everyone falls back to sleep, yet > we remain awake, alert in the dark, > our fading light illuminating the > secret place where moths are > born to gratify the darkness. > > In this way, our innocent blood > drips into the night and grants > the world the power to exist. > > It is not our world, > it never was. > > You whisper to me on our pillow, > and when our eyes meet, we > know something more true > than sleep, more true > than blood, though > it is dark, and > we are dying. > > We do not fear this death -- > we must not -- for it is nothing, > only a movement of moth-like wings, > whirring into the velvet darkness, > into the black-lacquer light. > > > > > > LoveAlways > community blog is at http://.net/blog/ "Love itself is the actual form of God." Sri Ramana In "Letters from Sri Ramanasramam" by Suri Nagamma Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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