This Book is written by Arthur Osborne.
Two windows are there: one looks on to space,
The other on the world, both blurred by thought
Of I and mine. This stopped; now not a trace
Through that first window still was seen of ought,
And none to see, no seeker and no sought.
And yet no blankness this,
But unimagined bliss,
It’s gateway not through terror but through Grace.
“The world and dissolution, day and night,
Both are, eternally.” “All things join hands
In cosmic dance,” all things now seen aright:
The gnarled and sombre northern pine-trees stand,
And star-shaped jasmine of this sun-baked land;
Through the breached ego-wall
Pure love flows out to all,
Even a stray dog draws love as a child might.
Is and Is not, both at once are true,
“Although to sight they seem to alternate.”
Life, death, pass over, but they are not you;
Fate fashions life, while you, immaculate,
Remain unchanged beyond life, death and fate.
You feel love outward flow
Towards others, while you know
All otherness a dream, the Truth not-two.