ADVAITA THEMED CHRISTMAS POETRY BY NORMAN WINDSOR CHRISTMAS ‘TIME’ It was Christmas Eve at the Ritz Hotel, They were checking in the clientele; The idle rich had come to stay Christmas Eve to New Years Day. Buxom ladies, bearing gifts, Clog the stairs and clog the lifts; Husbands, having parked the car, Toddle off to clog the bar. Receptionist, Wasima Khan, Who’d just returned from Pakistan, Said, “Sir, I think our goose is cooked - At least six rooms are double-booked.” The manager, Eno Bellutta, Cried, “Let me see that damned computer” - As two more taxis stopped outside And half-a-dozen more arrived. It was Christmas Eve in the snow filled streets, The shop-fronts bright with tinselled treats; Each window an Aladdin’s cave - Perfume, soap and aftershave. Wollen-mixtured bargain buys, Socks and stockings - all one size. Gathered round the Christmas Tree The local business Rotary Were playing carols through loud speakers, And shaking tins at bargain seeker. A Father Christmas coughed and stamped, A motor car was being clamped. Late Christmas Eve, and the church was still; The congregation waiting till The chiming clock in the belfry tower Struck the eucharist of the midnight hour, While listening stars and listening Earth, All listened for the new day’s birth, Till sound withdrew with subtle stealth Into the listening itself, And everyone began to feel The imminence of something real. The heavy gong began to lean - It struck - and from the place between The hammer and the housing face There opened up a wondrous space. As shepherds witnessed long ago, Strange things can happen here below, And suddenly a veil was drawn From passing time that Christmas dawn - The festive season’s joy and care, The Ritz Hotel and the shops were there - The world and all the human race - Contained, as nothing, in that space; A space beyond geometry - No centre, no periphery. And all of heaven opened wide, As once it did on a cold hillside, And the angels sang, “You can lose your blues, For here’s the truth - and it’s all good news ! Salvation’s not beyond the brow, It’s always ‘here’ and it’s always ‘now’. And redemption is already won And what you ‘are’ you cannot ‘become’; And the truth will turn your tears to laughter - For there’s no ‘before’ and there’s no ‘hereafter’, And the truth will turn your fears to mirth - For there is no death when there is no birth. And the myth of time will fade away - As a dream dissolves at the break of day, And all will be returned to health, As man at last denies himself. For the vain belief in an ‘I’ and ‘mine’ Is a fantasy; and passing time Just the dream world of a bogus ‘me’. What you truly ‘are’ you will ever be.” The Vicar whispered “Let us pray.” Time moved on - it was Christmas Day . . . . HE CAME TO SAVE THE WORLD FROM SIN The sons of David lost the plot, Became obsessed with THOU SHALT NOT ! Then priests and vicars all piled in And men were taught the creed of SIN ! Which made the world a sadder place And quite screwed-up the human race. And so, to straighten-out these views, A child was born unto the Jews. Instead of ‘judgement from above’, In Earth was sown the creed of LOVE. Of course, when once our minds are set, New information seems a threat. King Herod said, “He’ll be my death, I’ll separate him from his breath”. While others swore they’d ‘cook his kipper’, And shut him up whilst still a nipper. Indeed, at last, they got their way - But not before he’d had his say. The message from the child of peace: “Let talk of sin and virtue cease. You know not why nor whence you came, Who is this ‘you’ you praise or blame ? It’s daft to build yourself a rack Or take false burdens on your back; It’s make-believe that what you do Is sanctioned and ordained by you. Since no one makes their own heart beat Virtue and sin are gross conceit. Can you, with all your thought and chatter, Add one cubit to your stature ? Who knows at what behest or whim The cosmos and the planets spin, Or where the orchid gets its hue ? The planets spin - and so do you. Existence is our movie-show - What we call ‘me’ part of its flow, A separate self the ego’s dream - Our ‘starring roles’ are on a screen. Go with the flow in childlike fashion, Be one with suffering and compassion. There’s no resistance when you yield - Live like the lilies of the field. In love the breath of life is flowing, There’s rest and joy in pure ‘not knowing’; This paradox our guiding star: ‘There is no you, and yet YOU ARE’. Despite what all the clerics say There isn’t any ‘judgment day’. And those who grieve can dry their eyes - In motion pictures no one dies. Men seek for ‘truth’ beyond some brow, But heaven and hell and truth are now; Though spread on earth, men see it not, And seek what they’ve already got. Who knows what wonders Man might find If he should see beyond the mind”. A baby in a manger bed Has turned this world upon its head. The former creeds have passed away, New life is born - it’s Christmas Day.
Posted on: Mon, 22 Dec 2014 14:38:21 +0000
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