Why bow before a white
silk dhoti and a pair sandals,
to one who sits on a golden dais
garlanded with roses and gladiolas?
Thousands perform padanamaskar,
shattering their brains on his bare toes.
But that finite human form is only
the reflection of something
infinite inside you, something
that bursts open in your solar plexus
and flowers beyond light.
The one you worship out there
is not the Guru - not unless his gaze
awakens the music in your silence,
his whisper tastes of nectar
in the space where your breath stops,
his shape dissolves into the stillness
at the core of your heartbeat.
The real
Guru is within.
The real Guru is within.
Let that one awaken this one.
Then bow.
Photo by Kristy Thompson
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