The following is a dedication, in praise and admiration of our Divine Mother.

Praises to the Divine Mother

My Divine Mother,
please accept the words written here,
as a humble expression of praise and gratitude.

Naturally, there are no words to describe Your grace.

Yet, these words are what I have to offer at Your feet.
This, and my own awareness.

As an expression of Your boundless love,
You dreamt me into existence.

Now, this person and this world appear in my awareness.

Even though I arrogantly speak of "my" awareness, 
there is in fact only Your awareness, 
shining in and through all beings.

Just as the same clay can be used to make a cup, a bowl, a jug,
so have You used Your divine essence to form all of life.

Life only appears in and through You,
and it is only You that appears in and through all life.

You are the solo dancer,
wearing countless masks, 
dancing with elegance in the cosmic hall of eternity.

My Divine Mother, 
please forgive me for ignorantly claiming to "do this" and "do that",
as my self-cherishing distracts me from Your truth.

In the same way that all the waves in the ocean are only the activity of the ocean,
so are You the infinite ocean of consciousness in which all waves rise and fall.

You are the single Doer of all deeds,
and it is only You who enjoy the fruit of all deeds.

While all joys are solely Yours,
so are all pains and sufferings Yours too.

You, my Divine Mother,
are the distressed fly, 
caught in the spider's web.

Simultaneously, You are the spider,
content with its catch.

Even when a circle is drawn in the sand,
in reality, there is only sand.

Although a whirlpool appears in the river,
there is nothing other than the river.

Similarly, my Divine Mother,
the world and everything in it may appear,
but in reality, it is You alone.

You are the single Witness to Your own dream.

You are One, without a second.

The notion of a "creator" entertains the idea of a separate "creation".

Like an artist and her art,
or a house and its builder.

The exotic idea of creation sets in motion the search for a creator.

However, this is in vain,
for how can a dream be separate from its dreamer?

How can a rose be separate from its scent? 

A fire and its heat is one and the same.

The gold is also the bracelet,
and the bracelet is also the gold.

Only for Your own enjoyment, 
my Divine Mother,
do You dream this world into existence.

Snowy mountain-tops can only be admired from afar,
not from the mountain-top itself.

Every beautiful sunrise and sunset happens on the distant horizon,
and not from the sun itself.

In the same way, my Divine Mother, 
You play a cosmic game of hide-and-seek,
only to adore Yourself,
to love Yourself,
to admire Yourself.

At the break of dawn,
one, bumpy silhouette appears on the horizon.

In the light of day, 
one silhouette becomes many hills.

At dusk,
many hills become one, bumpy silhouette,
only to dissolve into pure darkness.

Such is life, my Divine Mother.

You give birth to one,
from one comes many,
only to return to one,
and dissolve back into its Silent Source.

My Divine Mother,
Your crystal-clear river of consciousness flows eternally.

Concepts such as time and space,
beginning and end,
life and death,
are like bubbles,
surfacing and popping.

They are nothing but decorations,
to Your boundless river of love.

My Divine Mother,
no amount of words can capture Your brilliance.

It is like studying a tiny acorn,
to comprehend the magnificence of a mighty oak.

Magically, You hide Yourself in plain sight.

Like the white page, on which these words appear,
or the screen on which the movie plays.

You are seen everywhere,
but not recognized.

You playfully overlook Yourself,
just for the joy of playing.

When "somebody" is looking,
You hide.

When nobody is looking,
You reveal Yourself, to Yourself.

My Divine Mother,
once You decide to acknowledge Yourself,
You cannot help but to see Yourself,
everywhere.

You are attracted to Yourself,
like a moth is attracted to a flame,
or a bee attracted to a flower.

You cannot get enough of Yourself.
You adore Yourself.

"My Divine Mother, no amount of words can capture Your brilliance."

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Longing for my Dear Beloved - May 2021
Oh, Dharamsala! - October 2021