Hiranmayi

Millions born Millions die Meeting the Master Makes it all Breaking the barriers Bares it all Bornagain once and for all To see it as it is In every expression As the One creator Birth of a Master(awakened) Buried in all Revealed in time and space By His grace of it all If at all, now and here Let this auspiciousness Of His birthdate Bring us alive To our own Potentials of awakefullness Unspoken wishless-wishes Indescribable wordless-words Reaching you-less YOU Springing forth here as it is Oh! My Beloved Divine Seeking your grace On this auspicious day.

T’was battered and scarred, and the auctioneer Thought it scarcely worth his while To waste much time on the old violin, But held it up with a smile. "What am I bidden, good folks," he cried, "Who’ll start the bidding for me?" "A dollar, a dollar," then, two! Only two? "Two dollars, and who’ll make it three? "Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice; Going for three . . . "But no, From the room, far back, a grey haired man Came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust from the old violin, And tightening the loose strings, He played a melody pure and sweet As a caroling angel sings. The music ceased, and the auctioneer, With a voice that was quiet and low, Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow. "A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two? Two thousand! And who’ll make it three? Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice; And going and gone," said he. The peopl...