How can a river's soaking lips be parched?
How the flowing stream tongue feel dry?
How the Lord of Free will be
by slender fibers bound?
How can our solar soul ever wilt or die?
Death liberates me from bondage of life,
Liberation frees me from fetters of death.
When thus I am returned to life's Freedom City
without any of enfleshment's continuing idiom,
Freedom sings to me a fairy song that says:
All in the all sans "was," "will be," "shall cease,"
is ever pure, ever wise, unbound, ever free.
Soar, soar, soar from every luminous pore
of mine, O Lighting, to sky's farthest shore,
Roar, roar, roar from woods that mind explores.
O Silences, to suns and suns yondermore
Yea, to every distant sun's
deep fathomless fire core.
From Swami Veda's book: The Light of Ten Thousand Suns
Unbound
SWAMI VEDA BHARATI