Sitting In Padmasan steady as a rock,
not even hearing the chiming of the clock
Yet hearing, seeing, feeling the perfect Bliss,
Enveloped In Estacy in nature's silent kiss.
Melting, melting into the Essence that exists,
Far from the torments of life's reminisce.
All One with the pervading Glory bereaved of sin and vice.
Born of inherent Purity aquired through Sacrifice.
Sitting in Padmasan, the hour to be adored.
Worshipping in Silence, at the feet of the Holy Lord.
Humbly craving pardon for the wasted years,
Adhering to depravity, from beggars to reigning peers.
Relinquishing the ego, in climbing the Spiritual Path.
Witnessing the cleansing of the Soul at the Father's Hearth.
Ignoring worldly rivalry , in efforts to advance.
Where Saints have penetrated through the Avalanche.
Sitting In Padmasan with burning thirst for Liberation.
From a world bereaved of decency, descending to degradation.
With hearts that are bursting with loud applause.
In joyful expectancy to acclaim the Lord.
Acquiring knowledge that all will be well.
Assurance of delivery from the foreboding hell.
Come all those who will, to the Lotus Feet of the Lord
And taste of the Nectar that only He can afford.
Sri Sivananda-Rita in the early 1970's
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