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Date Posted: 15:23
Author: Mike - 8 May 2001
Subject: Behold The Lord
Behold The Lord With The Inner Eye
Kabir’s - “Kar nainon didar mahal men pyara hai”
Thy love behold with the inner eye,
where in a mansion He doth lie.
Lust, avarice and ire, and vanity repel,
With continence, forgiveness, truth and contentment
Intoxicants, flesh eating;
forswear thou mind cheating,
And steed of knowledge mounting,
off this false show fleeting.
Dhoti, neti, and basti done,
Squat duly thou in padmasan,
When kumbhak is completed,
let rechak be begun
And cleansing thus base ganglion,
be all thy task completing.
Four-petalled lotus blossoms,
in the muladhar’s bed,
Where "kilying" sound arises
and ruddy glow is spread.
There form of god Ganesha,
his might hath established,
Through ridhi sidhi over him a whisk
A lotus of six petals
In the sex ganglion lies,
Where nagin lies inverted;
crush her until she dies.
there tunes of Onkara
The Words forever repeating.
In the navel blooms a lotus,
petals of which are eight,
Where on a throne of white,
Vishnu doth shine in state.
Flow sonorous airs of "hirying" from lips
of the god resplendent,
On whom are Shiv and Lakshmi, the twain,
Twelve-petalled lotus lies
in the ganglion of heart,
Where sit gods Shiva and Gauri
With strain of Shabd as "Sohang"
the land is over flowing
And shouts of victory rise,
that to be Ganas owing.
A lotus with sixteen petals
In the throat is situated,
Which doth Avidya goddess
With her being permeate.
Brahma , Vishnu and Shiva,
a whisk over her do ply,
and “Shirying” is the carol
And up above that, brother,
Lotus ambrosial view,
See two forms - white, and the other
That is sable in hue.
At the back of the eyes is this domain,
where nij man doth in glory reign.
Thus hath revealed been
The secret of the lotuses;
Within the purview of pind,
This whole creation is.
Let satsang now invite,
Find the preceptor right,
Who “Satnam” will recite,
And he will show the way.
Close eyes and mouth and ear.
Chirping of cricket hear,
As Anhad melody,
The pupils twain, as one draw in,
A flowering garden spy.
To a point bring both moon and sun:
On sukhman concentrate,
In the confluence of Tribeni meditate,
Crossing to that land
Shalt thou illusion ever shun.
The gongs are struck,
The conch shells blow.
Thus doth divine music flow,
From lotus of thousand petals
Refulgent as the festivals.
Which are with lamps aglow.
It harbors the creator,
Overlord of all below.
Bunk tunnel enter now and penetrate across.
Dak 'ni, Sak'ni do youdly yell,
yama, imps and messengers of hell
Do bawl and halloo all pell-mell.
Hearing “Satnam” they all do flee,
When Guru’s word is uttered by thee.
Within the orb of heaven,
Inverted lies a well.
The gurmukh and the mystic,
from that do drink their fill,
But he who hath no guru,
bereft of spiritual leaven,
Is parched and thirsty still
Gloom obscures his mind;
he doth in darkness dwell.
Trikuti is the region,
The fountainhead of knowledge,
Where peals of darksome clouds
the kettledrums acknowledge,
A ruddy glow of sunset is scaterring
all its sheen
A lotus there has petals four,
Where tunes of “onkara” do rise evermore.
Whoso mounteth this aerie
Truly a sadh is he.
The secrets of the nine doors
To him revealed be,
Who now beyond the tenth soars,
That’s locked perpetually.
Set-Sunn’s beyond this range,
In Mansar have a bath,
The hansas meet; thyself to hansa change.
Live thou on nectar now,
in drinking that engage.
The harp and mandolin, the lute -
all these do play,
Where Akshar Brahm in Sunn
holdeth his court always.
Light equal to twelve suns,
each hansa radiates;
Word from eight petalled lotus,
The ocean of Mahasunn,
a perilous pass is it,
Without satguru no one
through it can find exit.
The wolf and tiger prowl,
the snakes are ever biting,
There rolling plains of Sahaj Achint
do stretch and lie inviting.
In Par Brahm there is, O Brother,
lotus with petals eight,
Twelve-petalled one is to the right,
where Achint is situated.
To the left ten-petalled Sahaj is,
Such are the details of the lotuses.
The five Brahms, in eggs encased are all,
And all the five “Neh-akshar” do we call.
There regions four do lie hid,
Where live internees whom
The Purush hath exiled.
Behold where mountains twain do meet,
From Bhanwar Gupha the saints do greet.
The hansas play in wondrous sport,
The Satguru doth hold his court.
There islands eighty-eight thousand
did the creator raise,
And palaces lie studded
with jade and gem ablaze.
There uninterrupted tunes
of flute and fiddle play,
And reverberating word “Sohang”
doth ever say.
When the frontiers of Sohang thou dost,
O brother, clear,
Then the outskirts of Sat Lok anear,
Where emanate sweet fragrances galore,
Mysterious, ineffable evermore.
Each hansa there in the light
of sixteen suns is bathed,
And the wondrous music of the lute
is ever being played.
The hansas wave the whisk
over the Sovereign’s crown:
Such is the court of Him
who as Sat Purush is known.
Ten million suns appearing,
As many moons anearing,
Their light in insignificance fades.
Before their refulgence one hair of His pervades,
Such is the glory of the Deity.
Alakh Lok lies, Brother, further on,
Where Alakh Purush hath his dominion,
Billions of suns rival each hair in vain.
Above that a palace enveloped in splendour
Agam purush inhabits and rules it in grandeur.
Each pore of his essence refulgence doth shed,
Before which is light of trillion suns dead.
Such light doth He posess,
Ineffable, beyond access.
Above that there’ Akeh Lok, brother,
Inhabited by Anami Purush, no other.
Who reach that land know only they,
For words can naught of that convey.
Thus of the form of man
have I revealed the mystery;
All this creation doth exist
within this our body.
Deliberately hath maya thrown a snare,
she is a skilled creator rare.
Primordial maya did in cleverness create
A false show which in pind
She did thus adumbrate.
In Anda first a copy drew,
Of which she here a shadow threw.
I fly as a bird, my wings the word,
Saith kabir, I’m free,
My satguru liberated me.
My conciousness awoke, only the word did resound,
And then beyond Pind and And,
My true home I found.
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