Paddling gently on warm sands
my Master moves on
“Interview, interview,” rents
the sky
“Sit, sit, wait,” console my
Lord.
“Swami, we are leaving,
please interview,” prays a
foreigner.
“How many are you?” inquire Lord
Sai.
“Twenty Four Swami!” informs he.
“Oh, too many, my room is
small,”
Tell the Knower of the World
“How is your mother, Jenny!
Poor soul, very sick, I saved
her.
last Christmas! Here, give her Vibhuti!”
Swami’s celestial Hand creates Vibhuti,
Swami talk on level human
to make us understand!
His effulgence, encompassing
cosmos
is too much for us to stand!
Gradually He lift us
till then, He level down!.
This is the grandeur of my Lord
since ages, I am unable to
gauze.
*
No comments:
Post a Comment