The Guru
The Guru
In the darkness of life a brilliant ray;
The most precious thing in the world today;
Above ambition and struggle for fame;
Aloof from the world of form and name;
Beyond the hunger of want and desire;
The Guru sits calm by his sacred fire.
Disciples at the teacher’s feet did learn,
Until they all were Gurus in their turn;
From Gurus of a past beyond all time,
There came the truth in one unbroken line;
So Gurus that have been but now are gone,
Have known the Science of God and passed it on.
Reformers dream their dreams, so very nice,
To turn the world into a paradise;
The Guru knows that though the world is old,
Man has no power to recast or remold;
And though long centuries do pass away,
Men never learn and dream new dreams today.
He knows the mass will never give him ear,
Prefer their life, its hazards and its fear;
To dream that sometime they will have the price,
To turn the world into a paradise.
The Guru sees the world of name and form,
A sorry mess in which men are reborn.
He does not seek to wander far and wide,
Or ever crave for someone at his side;
For he who knows the Absolute, the One,
Knows there is little more which need be done,
But use some particle of time each day,
To guide a soul and help it on its way.
But who can prophesy or warning give
When fast mad world will never give it ear?
How nature bleeds, her work is all undone
And nothing knows of harmony the more.
Is he not lucky, who while there was time,
By yoga traveled to the other shore?
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