FIRE HAS LEFT THE HEARTH
Fire has left the hearth
Nautilus climbed from shell
Perfume flowed from read more

FIRE HAS LEFT THE HEARTH
Fire has left the hearth
Nautilus climbed from shell
Perfume flowed from bottle
Prisoner gone from cell
Butterfly flutterbied cocoon
nor hand restrained by glove
Jesus away from manger
Cage left by Spirit Dove.
Sparklings soared away from wand.
Chick's egg become the bird.
Omkar sung from out the throat
Violin's notes now heard.
Buddhist temple pine cone
tabernacle'd godlet seed
Shattered that it might manifest
thousand forests of fir tree
Eternal snow of mountain top
now nurses meadow flowers.
Shining never held by sun
relentless melts ice towers.
Love has left its
spring the heart
Is now a liquid pond
Host stolen from the chalice
consumed in mouth of God
Starlight abandoned star
a billion years ago
Left that tonight you
might
have its sight
and know
Know Love is forever
no drop of God ever dies
Lover not bound by form of love
God's bodies are not God's souls
(to his wife and children
on the death of Robert S)
(Baba Hari Das: is the author
of love is more powerful than
lover for love is not bound by
form).

It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

What gem hath dropp'd, and sparkles o'er his chain?
The tear most sacred, shed for other's pain,
read more

What gem hath dropp'd, and sparkles o'er his chain?
The tear most sacred, shed for other's pain,
That starts at once--bright pure--from Pity's mine,
Already polish'd by the hand divine!

Tears may be dried up, but the heart - never.

Tears may be dried up, but the heart - never.

Go not for every grief to the physician, nor for every quarrel to the lawyer, nor for every thirst to read more

Go not for every grief to the physician, nor for every quarrel to the lawyer, nor for every thirst to the pot.

Let me moderate our sorrows. The grief of a man should not
exceed proper bounds, but be in proportion read more

Let me moderate our sorrows. The grief of a man should not
exceed proper bounds, but be in proportion to the blow he has
received.
[Lat., Ponamus nimios gemitus: flagrantior aequo
Non debet dolor esse viri, nec vulnere major.]

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know read more

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not.

Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though it is hard to realize read more

Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though it is hard to realize this. For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and griefs which we endure help us in our marching onward.

The only cure for grief is action.

The only cure for grief is action.