Sky, my face is seen


In a room somewhere far away, a faceless person sits looking at pictures of me. An invisible person with no beginning and no end has gotten sight of me. And the tracing begins, and the aching sets in. Line after line, “let me in!” screams the ghost. I would have written stories and done bountiful things. I would have set the record straight. I would have been loved, had I existed at all. Where I matter, where the lines go. Inside, on these walls. Nobody is looking at this. There is a force on the other side of these walls, not in the room but watching. Watching the faceless one name the rest of us, line us up and lean back to wait. Knock knock knock, sooner or later all is erased by the beginning of endings of me. Who stood still, looking in- source-less and trying to make sense to the numbers. Start here, end here. Do this religiously. Add up the pain and know it does good somewhere…down the line- where they cross and cancel each other out. Dangling from the center of this cross. Blunted by knives. Sacrificed by wolves. Eaten by snakes. Invisible to the average human eye. But I see the opening. Who said to play out this game when you know you can’t win? Not with my simple mortal eyes. Not like this. There is the shape of something forming far ahead up in the sky. A castle made of fearless gold. I would call that God if I could. I would put the pencil down and cry for salvation although it wouldn’t matter to anyone but you. I said what I said to make the picture as clear as it gets. There is only the line I keep drawing, there is only this empty hope of redemption. Blood falls, the earth drinks me all. Flesh rots and my face is fed to the worms.  A large hand reaches down swatting at the human flies. And I am there, in the doorway watching the line behind me disappear. Like tracks behind a waterless bird, God is nowhere waiting.

Sky, my face is seen. Sharada Devi


8 thoughts on “Sky, my face is seen”

  1. I was moved by the post. I never understand all of your writing, mainly because I don’t take the time to grok it all. If I even could. I take what I can easily reach, and eat it. One thing that stood out was the line, “…had I existed at all”. It brought-up in me a teaching a guru once told me, to paraphrase, “All existence has its opposite, non-existence, we don’t exist.” I think it was Ramana Maharshi who said, paraphrasing, “It’s about the fact that we are not people.” I’m thinking existence has its built-in resistance, it’s like we’re either forcing or resisting things…often. Patanjali supposedly said/wrote something like (paraphrasing again), “Ignore the mind, transcend the opposites, just do it = samadhi”, maybe that’s true. Should keep me busy and hopefully out of trouble for quite a while. Your site is awesome. As u r

  2. When I was young, I would look through musty old scriptures
    My hands running through yellow water-stained pages over faded text
    Stumbling over words and phrases to decipher their meanings
    Now I stare into cold blue digital screens
    Liquid crystal displays emitting color spectrum vibrations
    Overloading circuits of mis- information
    Zeros and ones in hieroglyphic transmissions
    Eight billion souls looking for a reason
    This time I found the answer
    This time I understand
    There used to be a single source
    We used to have Gabriel
    We’re still waiting on his message
    But now everyone wants to be a messenger…

    1. How right you are! But we can’t depend on anyone but ourselves in the end. So it’s not so much about when the message arrives, because it already has, it’s how we hear that message and what we do with it. So our perception brings life to the messenger who’s been here all along. It’s always the same no matter how the screen changes.

      1. Yes, that’s very true. Most of the time whatever we may learn from others, we need to experience ourselves to really understand and integrate. Just a little poetic discourse on my feeling about how both I and the times have changed in my beliefs along the way. I am grateful for many messages that have come through you. Often, they are confirmations of what I know to be true inside myself or my life. I do appreciate how direct you are to getting to the truth. All the best, Andrew

  3. God is just a portal- why we love it. Because we see ourself- inside. Feel what we can’t see

    I was thinking today, when I saw this mountain where all the trees had burned away, that love is a willingness. Even after being burned…
    But there was more. More mountains, and the road kept going. God is a willingness to die. To die to the mountains and the road. All the time.

    I watched The Bodyguard tonight. It was about love. More than that- willingness to die. All the time. God is watching through our eyes. What will I give -the portal

  4. Dear Ma, I just wanted to say Hi and tell you I often think of you and the time I experienced with you –
    Exchanging a bow at Laughing Lotus many years ago, Being with you in Woodstock, dancing with you in Belmar, testifying at Yoga Maya NYC where you plucked me from the audience. I want you to be well and happy. I am grateful for all you’ve given me. I continue on my path – going deeper with Vajrasattva and my root Guru Ven. Bardor Rinpoche. Surrendering to Shiva and Ma, loving Hanuman.

    I watched some snippets of your videos last night before bed and want to tell you they struck a deep emotional chord in me….reminding me of many of the things you said a few years ago in consultation in Woodstock. There’s a lot in my life that helps me keep it all in check – my work life, householder life, artist life. It just keeps moving. I’m up early every morning with the Lord. There’s no other way for me. It’s wonderful!

    You look so lovely. I’m just stopping by to say Hi and say that I’m grateful! Please Ma, take good care of yourself and be well. Onward.


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