The gods did share the foot of the mountain,
a home for Ramana to host the stars,
pilgrims feel him close under their bare feet,
a silence hovers in every small bush,
the personal then falls by the wayside,
or lost in dust and grime of market place,
a mountain bridges heaven and the earth
a long finger has nowhere left to point.
Adventure up the stony path unwinds,
a view that speaks of more than what it is,
as the great hawk kisses the skies’ blueness.
The mountain shows produce in the market,
a bustle, and hustle, shouts and fumes too,
a mountain and a market paths are shared,
who will split up a heaven from the earth?
A barren mountain, brown tones with shadows,
as hard pressed footsteps, ascend and descend,
to confirm the mountain meets the market.
Fresh journeys make their way up the path
and make the same journey down the same path.
The market is no longer the market,
the mountain is no longer the mountain,
no gap exists from peak to stall.
As Ramana ceases to be Ramana,
the seeker ceases to be the seeker,
no longer anything left to divide.
The seeker has come home.
Peace makes itself felt in Ramana’s hall
while the seeker is nowhere to be found
so the sought is neither above or below.
Ah. So liberating ….
Ramana Maharshi (1879 – 1950), a precious 20th century saint of India,
lived most of his life at the foot of Arunachala,
a high hill just outside the town of Tiruvanamalai in South India.
Ramana gave succinct teachings on a liberated life
in the palpable silence of his modest satsang room.
He showed the emptiness of duality without holding to non-duality.
Krishna, the wise God of India said: “The self of one is the self of all.”
Similarities and differences are mere presentations.