Abode Of the Beloved

Abode of the Beloved

Oh Companion That Abode Is Unmatched,
Where My Complete Beloved Is.

In that Place There Is No Happiness or Unhappiness,
No Truth or Untruth
Neither Sin Nor Virtue.
There Is No Day or Night, No Moon or Sun,
There Is Radiance Without Light.

There Is No Knowledge or Meditation
No Repetition of Mantra or Austerities,
Neither Speech Coming From Vedas or Books.
Doing, Not-Doing, Holding, Leaving
All These Are All Lost Too In This Place.

No Home, No Homeless, Neither Outside or Inside,
Micro and Macrocosm Are Non-Existent.
Five Elemental Constituents and the Trinity Are Both Not There
Witnessing Un-struck Shabad Sound is Also Not There.

No Root or Flower, Neither Branch or Seed,
Without a Tree Fruits are Adorning,
Primordial Om Sound, Breath-Synchronized Soham,
This and That - All Are Absent, The Breath Too Unknown

Where the Beloved Is There is Utterly Nothing
Says Kabir I Have Come To Realize.
Whoever Sees My Indicative Sign
Will Accomplish the Goal of Liberation. 

Kabir

Are You Looking For Me

Are you looking for me?

Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
you will not find me in the stupas, not in Indian shrine
rooms, nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals:
not in masses, nor kirtans, not in legs winding
around your own neck, nor in eating nothing but
vegetables.

When you really look for me, you will see me
instantly --
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.

Kabir says: Student, tell me, what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath. 

Kabir

Taste Differs

Taste Differs

What's sauce
For the goose,
At times not sauce
For the gander.

What's sauce
For the gander,
At times not sauce
For the goose.

What's admired
By me,
At times disliked
By others.

What's admired
By others,
At times disliked
By me.

M Rezvie Omerdeen
36/19, Harrison Jones' Rd
Matale
Sri Lanka

Unity

Unity

Alone,
The White dove flew,
Fell into
The net of a hunter.
Birds
Of the similar feather,
Together they flew
And saved
The white dove.
The tale
Too fictitious.

Skin deep

The moral
It carries. 

~ M Rezvie Omerdeen

23rd September 2012



                                               

Away

“Away

There is no sorrow
Time heals never;
No loss, betrayal,
Beyond repair.
Balm for the soul, then,
Though grave shall sever
Lover from loved
And all they share.
See the sweet sun shines
The shower is over;
Flowers preen their beauty,
The day how fair!
Brood not too closely
On love, on duty;
Friends long forgotten 
May wait you where
Life with death 
Brings all to an issue;
None will long mourn for you,
Pray for you, miss you,
Your place left vacant,
You not there.” 
― Walter de la Mare

As Long As I Live

“As long as I shall live
I shall always be
My Self-and no other,
Just Me.” 
― Walter de la Mare

God

God

In the ancient days, when the first quiver of speech came to my lips, I ascended the holy mountain and spoke unto God, saying, 'Master, I am thy slave. Thy hidden will is my law and I shall obey thee for ever more.'

But God made no answer, and like a mighty tempest passed away.

And after a thousand years I ascended the holy mountain and again spoke unto God, saying, 'Creator, I am thy creation. Out of clay hast thou fashioned me and to thee I owe mine all.'

And God made no answer, but like a thousand swift wings passed away.

And after a thousand years I climbed the holy mountain and spoke unto God again, saying, 'Father, I am thy son. In pity and love thou hast given me birth, and through love and worship I shall inherit thy kingdom.'

And God made no answer, and like the mist that veils the distant hills he passed away.

And after a thousand years I climbed the sacred mountain and again spoke unto God, saying, 'My God, my aim and my fulfilment; I am thy yesterday and thou art my tomorrow. I am thy root in the earth and thou art my flower in the sky, and together we grow before the face of the sun.'

Then God leaned over me, and in my ears whispered words of sweetness, and even as the sea that enfoldeth a brook that runneth down to her, he enfolded me.

And when I descended to the valleys and the plains, God was there also. 

Khalil Gibran

Not Waving but Drowning

Not Waving but Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning. 

Stevie Smith

1914 V: THE SOLDIER

1914 V: The Soldier

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven. 

Rupert Brooke

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

Overflow

GOODREADS POETRY CONTEST

Want your words to reach 8 million people? Goodreads and the¡POETRY! group have partnered to host an ongoing poetry contest. Join the ¡POETRY! group to vote each month to pick a winner from among the finalists. You can also submit a poem for consideration. Here is our September winner!

Overflow

by Mary Stone Dockery (Goodreads Author)

You tell her you are done with this farm,
with the old tractors rusting in the timber,
the flood lines etched on the tin shed.
You remember how each flood
crept to the steps of the porch
as the levy tore—
the floating picnic table,
tying the boat to the flag pole.

The way houses become islands
is routine for you.

You can no longer count
the number of buoys anchored
near your garage door.

She speaks of the lives of trees,
braced in their early years
with tarnished rods, how slowly
they seem to grow, how suddenly
they shade what was once
open space.

When you look at her hands,
you think of water receding,
all the cracked mud.
These acres are concrete slabs,
the river but bristles on a broom,
sweeping away all the seeds.

When you look at her hands,
you think of piles of things after,
in buckets and truck beds,
the way everyone stopped to look.

Read more poetry

With love,

Jessica, Elizabeth, and the Goodreads Team

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 2012 Reading Challenge Goodreads Blog

One Day

One day god send a chair to Two Lovers...
The speciality of that chair was that the person sitting on it if says TRUTH, Then the GREEN light would blink 'n if person sitting on it says LIE, Then RED light would blink....

Boy sat on the chair..
GIRL-Do you LOVE me?
BOY-Yes I love You...(RED light blinks..)
GIRL-Don't worry there will be mistake dne by god..!!
I'll ask You again 'n then We'll see what Will happen...
GIRL-Do You LOVE me?
BOY-yes I love you... (GREEN light blinks)
Do you know what happened when First Time the Girl asked,
The boy actually was NOT Interested in Love with her...
he LIED ..
But when girl showed her trust onthe boy...
That boy truly started LOVING the girl....
Thats LOVE.. !

Read more: http://quotesandpoem.blogspot.com/2011/11/show-your-trust-truly-story.html#ixzz26PbaQCG2
Under Creative Commons License: Attribution

Abraham Lincoln's letter to his son's teacher

He will have to learn, I know, 
that all men are not just,
all men are not true.
But teach him also that 
for every scoundrel there is a hero;
that for every selfish Politician, 
there is a dedicated leader...
Teach him for every enemy there is a 
friend,

Steer him away from envy,
if you can,
teach him the secret of
quiet laughter.

Let him learn early that 
the bullies are the easiest to lick... Teach him, if you can,
the wonder of books... 
But also give him quiet time 
to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky,
bees in the sun, 
and the flowers on a green hillside.

In the school teach him 
it is far honourable to fail 
than to cheat... 
Teach him to have faith 
in his own ideas, 
even if everyone tells him 
they are wrong... 
Teach him to be gentle 
with gentle people, 
and tough with the tough.

Try to give my son 
the strength not to follow the crowd 
when everyone is getting on the band wagon... 
Teach him to listen to all men... 
but teach him also to filter 
all he hears on a screen of truth, 
and take only the good 
that comes through.

Teach him if you can, 
how to laugh when he is sad...
Teach him there is no shame in tears, 
Teach him to scoff at cynics 
and to beware of too much sweetness... 
Teach him to sell his brawn 
and brain to the highest bidders 
but never to put a price-tag 
on his heart and soul.

Teach him to close his ears 
to a howling mob 
and to stand and fight 
if he thinks he's right. 
Treat him gently, 
but do not cuddle him, 
because only the test 
of fire makes fine steel.

Let him have the courage 
to be impatient... 
let him have the patience to be brave. 
Teach him always 
to have sublime faith in himself, 
because then he will have 
sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order,
but see what you can do... 
He is such a fine fellow, 
my son!

All What's written

Whatever written grammatically

Could be spoken,

Whatever spoken ungrammatically

Couldn't be written.

Whatever happens in real life

Could be shown in the silver screen,

Whatever shown in the silver screen

Couldn't happen in real life.

-M REZVIE OMERDEEN

36/19, HARRISON JONES'S ROAD

MATALE

SRI LANKA