The mind is a looking glass
So many colours are here
The truth is lost in their flash
What's real is known only to thee
Shyama thou hast camouflaged everything
Hast locked the truth and kept the key
This ageless game of hide and seek
Thou play with thy children
Men are born and die in vain
Searching for thee unknown to themselves
Everyone runs around
Seeking in desert the nectar of a fountain
At last comes thy Divine touch
When thy will is done
The veils of mind get torn
Thou show thyself and call them
It's time child let's return home
How magical is thy game O' Mother
That everything is gone
Now what the world offer none does bother
Receiving thy gift of Truth in a golden jar
All else got vanished
And one sees only thee near and far
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Chànts fröm Psychiç
SpiritualThe word,the form,the charm,the glory and grace Are missioned sparks from a stupendous Fire; A sample from the laboratory of God Of which he holds the patent upon earth, Comes to him wrapped in golden coverings; He listens for Inspiration's post...
