Monday, 29 November 2010


I see a mountain from my window

Standing like an ancient sage

Desireless, full of love.

So many trees and so many flowers

They plunder the mountain all the time.

Its attention is not disturbed

And when the rain pours like

Many pitchers of clouds bursting

And it fills the mountain with greenery.

The storms may come soaring,

Filling the lake with compassion

And the rivers flow running down

Towards the calling sea.

The sun will create clouds and

Wind carries on its feathery wings

The rain on to the mountain.

This is the eternal play

The mountain sees

Without desires.

Shri Mataji wrote this in Cabella, Italy,
watching the mountain from Her room

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