poetry

Jataka Bandi

True love

True perfection, imperfect gleam,
Perfectly itself, it seems.

True fullness, void in sight,
Fully present, day and night.

True straightness, crooked guise,
True wisdom, fool’s surprise.

True art, artless grace,
Life unfolds at its own pace.

The Master lets things flow,
Shapes events, then lets them go.

Steps aside, life’s tale to tell,
In silence, wisdom’s voice will swell.

Fulfilment

Fame or integrity, what counts more?
Money or happiness, which endures?
Success or failure, which can harm?
Seek in others, and you’re never calm.

Fulfillment lies in self, not the throng,
Realize your worth, you’ve had it all along.
In that moment of clarity, pure and true,
The whole wide world belongs to you.
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Gentle

The gentlest touch conquers stone,
Substance melts where space is none.
In silence, wisdom softly grows,
In stillness, deepest rivers flow.

Teaching hearts with silent words,
Acts unseen, yet deeply heard.
This is the Master’s quiet art,
A humble, gracious, guiding heart.
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