YOGI

YOGI

He stands so upright that heaven smiles,
and his spine claims to be the word axis.
His head shelters here in his conquered Meru, [1]
the desir of love when the shakti floods him. [2]
He’s so patient for millenia!
He teases the sand of his languid feet
and let’s his hair weave the passing time,
slowly ponctuating the sleepy dust.
He knows the way where your children stumble
and calms the path of your mature doubts.
He paves the way of your learning,
enabling you sometimes to understand his route.
His trip is made of gold, of fire and sun,
and his translucent skin reveals his nadis, [3]
which from white to blue through the red,
lead the mind when he is energy.
He always accredit with a not surprised look
your clumsy poses, your amazing phrases.
Without adding word to what has been said,
he offers the silence to clear the emphasis.
He’s the point, the centre, he is the convergence [4]
for researchers who saw his luminous life.
He’s the earth when it danses and heaven when it shines,
he’s for the humble appeal his own transcendence.
His tanned fingers with his simple gestures
build the sacrificial fire where the ghee [5] will flow,
to turn your ego which resists and fulminates
despite such sweetness when the heart tells “Yes”.
He laugh, he even smiles to your worried mines,
who want the “Knowledge” while no making the quest.
Scratching his chin without taking your worries,
he shows his pretty teeth and beautiful grey hair.
He’s detached and can’t tell you anything else,
so much what he IS, has already told you everything.
He’s the life which goes when you spend yours,
but his own comes from the wind of infinity.

Author
Jaya Yogacharya