On my Shaktipat Anniversary – by Swami Nirmalananda
How can I say thank you
When the one who might express such gratitude
At least, not separate from the one who might be thanked.
There is only Muktananda.
I have looked for Him,
Today I looked so I could thank Him
For giving me to me,
But there is no me.
The one who thought “me”
Who saw only pain
Felt only need,
Yearned only for God,
This me was not me.
This me was wisps of fog, tendrils of thoughts
Swirling in the vastness that always was.
That always Is.
I was always I, even when I didn’t know.
I was I then as I am I now, even when I didn’t know.
There is only one I. Muktananda.
But there is no He separate from me.
We played at being two,
Me in need, I played my part well!
Me in need, He seeing beyond the me.
I miss Him so.
Now what do I do?
Sometimes I breathe
In the space between the breaths
And the space the breath moves through
There — Is.
That which moves and that through which movement moves — Is.
Yogis call that —That.
I could call That, Muktananda,
But I would be manufacturing a form
To pin His name on, when He was so much more
And still is.
What can I do?
I can only serve.
In the service and in the song
I create a me to love He.
The forms of the One dance in the love
And the longing
And the gratitude
Who hears me when I say, “Thank you, Baba.”
Only me, for He is not separate from me.
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