No place now do I pine to be sent, Where I’m now, I’m quite content, Spending the days that may remain Here, on this Your earthly plane, Here to be, and here also to do Whatever You might ask me to, Tasks that to me You might tell, Big or small, doing them all well.   Each moment that now You may lend, In the best manner thus may I spend. This is all I could now ask You for, I just can't think of anything more, Just this, until on Earth my last day, Grant this my plea, to You

To those wordy prayers I bade adieu, Fixed, formal ways of addressing You, For, an onerous burden it soon became, Day in and day out repeating the same.                 Words I muttered in a strange tongue, Litanies to an unknown god that I sung: My worship turned into mere pretence, The time thus spent a wasteful expense, And so, to myself I began to this to say: To You I must in my own way now pray.   Dearest Friend You are—they say so, Our deep thoughts You already know, S

Some want on this Earth to forever be, Some strive from here to quickly flee. Some call earthly life a very dark night, Some in being here take much delight. Some in frenzy chase personal gain, Some by worldly sorrow turn insane. Some for their life here take good care, Some declare it to be cruel nightmare. Some seek Heaven here, some call it Hell, About living on Earth what all people tell! Each sees their being here as they choose, Some waste this life, others it well do u

Today these words came to me, Giving me much-needed clarity: “Focus on the person you now are, Each new day raise your own bar. Your primary concern should be you, Not how others are and what they do. You be the change you want to see, Be the best person that you can be. And do the best you possibly can: Make this as your life’s basic plan. When this is done, depart from here, That’s just all there is to it, my dear.”

For a brief visit we're sent down here, On this earthly plane made to appear. Soon, it’ll be time our wings to unfold, To fly back home when this we're told.   Ah! How short! Such a very brief span! Why this quick visit, tell me if you can. What’ll occur when from here we go? No person does this for certain know, Yet, each thinks their claim to be right, And about this see how people fight!   Maybe on death we’ll simply cease to be, A name and form, called as ‘you’ and ‘me’,

Each day’s work You assign to one and all, Some to do ‘big’ things, others things small. To some folks, now quite silly this might look, But today You want me to read a kiddy book!   You decided that this book today I must read, “Thank You”, I say, it’s a great delight indeed! It may have tales of elves, and of fairies as well, Of goblins, gnomes and pixies perhaps it’ll tell, And witches and their spells, clever wizards also, To magic places on their brooms they might go! Wh

Into this world beings come and go, Why at all, this we just don’t know. To explain this, theories we concoct (In numbers, these being quite a lot), But none of us really knows for sure What it is that we’re down here for. Maybe it’s all a dream, or some game, Coming and going, repeating the same, With no beginning and no ending, Seeming real but only pretending, With just no purpose other than this: To come here and go without remiss. Beings arriving, and soon going out: May

As I sat in the comfort of my chair, At my toes below I began to stare. Oh how good this while to spend, My little toes below to thus attend, Just observing, letting time pass by, What delight! Would you like to try?   It’s a lovely way some time to use, In noticing one’s toes oneself to lose. Once in a while, our toes let’s observe, For they, too, our attention deserve. For a period doing nothing, only this, And for that time, being in sheer bliss!

Be they deeds big or small, I should let You do them all, And so be freed from praise and blame, And also from all pride and shame, For ‘my’ actions there’d be none, All You Yourself would’ve done, Then I could rest, being assured, And of all fear then fully cured, Knowing that no wrong did I do, All ‘my’ deeds being done by You. Nor would I then feel any regret, Nor by boastful arrogance beset, For, if You did all ‘my’ deeds, not I, How could I exult in them or cry? At best

Ah see how loudly they declare, With much flourish and fanfare, The many tales that they weave, Themselves and others to deceive, The myriad theories that they tell, Holding millions under their spell. Who knows what or which is right, And is based on deep, true insight? Who knows what or which is fake, Concocted for vile purpose's sake? None can with full confidence say That theirs’s the one true, right way.  Yet, despite the fact that this is so, Absolute Truth they claim t

In this life if we’ve to succeed, The Inner Voice we must heed. Turning within for It to be heard, Listen carefully to Its every word.   The voice this is of The Divine, That whispers gently, very fine. It tells us what to do and when, So, listen to It again and again.   This God’s voice speaking inside Is our life’s true, infallible guide. Listening and doing as It suggests, We’ll succeed in passing life’s tests.

When we’re bored, knowing not what to do, What strange tricks our mind can get up to! Much of our life’s troubles, this we can find, Is simply the outcome of a very bored mind. Refusing to be quiet, to be silent and at rest, It rushes about foolishly, in enormous zest, Making us do things that later we’ll regret, Often this occurs if by boredom we’re beset. Great misery ourselves we can easily spare If of our bored minds we take proper care.   Much of the world’s sorrow, stri

Ah, my Lord, what hate and strife! Is this why You gave us this life? Pardon me please, I know it’s not, But all of this does pain us a lot. One day perhaps You’ll redeem Us folks from the Primal Scream That’s torn our heart, maddened our mind, Down through generations of humankind. And then, on that most blessed day, When the Scream starts fading away, Trailing off into soft silence complete, Hate and strife’ll concede full defeat, When emerges the world's final result. Ah,

These poems that I write: How are they in Your sight? Do You think that I should Carry on if they're any good? Or, do You insist that I cease? Do tell me Your opinion please.   Penning poems I love to do, (Though read by very few), I’m no great poet, that I know, I've still a very long way to go. I don’t have grand literary skill, Please make me do as You will. Why not You write my poems on my behalf As if You’re AI! At that let’s together laugh!

We all come here through a mother’s womb, Then hurriedly rush towards a waiting tomb. From birth to death oh how fast we speed! Strange’s both beginning and end indeed!   She brought me here, then away she went, To where it was decreed that she be sent. I’ll follow her now, soon will come my turn, From where she brought me to then return: Into The Mother from whom we all came, For all beings here, this fate’s the same!

You set what’s to be each person’s fate: Some to be obscure, others to be great, Some who’ll bask in splendid glory, Some whose life’ll be a sordid story, Some who’ll here top heights attain, Some who anonymous must remain, Some who’ll earn name and fame, Some who’ll be bereft of all acclaim, Some to mediocrity You’ll confine, Some leading roles You’ll assign, Some who’ll ‘big’ things achieve, Some who silently from here’ll leave. Oh how busy this work keeps You: So many folk

Whom can I believe, whom can I trust? On the face a smile, in the heart disgust. Their ‘great love’ they so loudly declare, But I just can’t say if they really do care.   What pain I’ve endured these years here, Gut-wrenching torment, maddening fear, From those whom I innocently believed, I never imagined I’d be so badly deceived.   Not even in the ‘nearest’ have I now faith in (Though you might declare this a grave sin), For, life’s knocks have led me this to know: An ogre c

Do you think I’m so supine That I’ll allow you to define My ‘identity’, as you term it, As if I must obey your writ? How foolish can you be, I ask, Presuming that it is your task To tell me who and what I am. I won’t fall prey to your scam. From all your labels I am free. So what if you don't agree? For me the identities you invent I refuse to give them my consent.

You do the deeds we say we do. Imagining we’re other than You, Doers of deeds we think we are, Victims all of a delusion bizarre. We’re You, and through us You do Various deeds that You want to. Alone You do, for who else could? This fact is but by few understood. Who are we but You in our guise (Though this truth but few realise)? This being so, the deeds we perform Are by You done assuming our form. Deeds that get done, all You do, 'Good', 'neutral', even 'evil' too. We thi

Where we'll take birth You decide, To us Your logic You don’t confide. Who while here which parents will get, And where on Earth they’ll them beget, Our class, religion, gender and race, Nationality, ethnicity and look of face, These factors that play such a big role In shaping our life’s course as a whole, Over them no control do we possess. That You decide them shall I confess? The genes we inherit You also decree, In this matter, too, we just aren’t free. Hence, I'm led no