The Birth of our Beloved Before Kali Yuga [Iron Age] started, sweet Lord Krishna oft proclaimed“To this Earth again will I be born, when it is steeped in shame”. And thus it was so written, ‘pon the Gita’s golden page“For the protection of the Righteous, I am born from age to age.” And then the world retreated deep—into Maya’s cold embraceA handful cried to God Himself to assuage them with His Grace. Thus in humble Puttaparthi, as the Lord destined it beA little one was coming to the Raju Family! Unknowing Easwaramma, beauteous with childHad begged the gods for a son—the Lord Himself just smiled! Midnight marked the holy advent of November twenty-thirdThe pious family lay at rest; there was but naught a word! SUDDENLY! Tamboura’s [musical Instrument] drone ethereal with ecstatic joy of drum“Proclaimed out of their own accord: “The Lord Himself will come!” Thus in the earliest morning, Easwaramma felt the pangsAnd the Greatest God began descent unto this lowly plane. The mother partook of worship, water sanctified, and flowersAnd the village was chanting “Shiva! Shiva!” in these dawning hours! The Sunrise was the Advent! The dawn of Humankind’s dreamThe Divine and Glorious Babe was born, aglow with Light Supreme. The blessed year-1926—thus our Precious Lord appearedAnnouncing once again to all! —”I am your Charioteer!” A cobra, strange, ‘neath Baby’s Bed—­mysteriously made it shakeFor mighty Vishnu rest again—as Sesha­sayi ‘pon the snake! God lay in His New Body, tiny head in halo’d cloudAnd measured lofty Powers with which He’d been endowed! His smile captured all the Hearts of those who were so bless’dAnd wondrous realms of Divine Abode could this little face suggest! `Sathyanarayana’ was given as His NameSupreme Embodiment of Truth, Full-Grace Full Sri, Full Fame! A celestial little laugh amidst a head of silken curlsDazzled Mother Earth and delighted all the worlds! O, if we could have peered then—into those sparkling Lotus EyesWe would have wept with joy and cried­—”He’s come for us! Our Sai!” Soon the air was softly filled with the breath of jasmine bloomLittle Sathya radiated Bliss! And a God’s Perfume! Our Merciful little Gopal, now Sathya in this lifeCame to comfort the weary world for her human tears and strife. The Lord’s figure grew into a charming abode of GraceToday lakhs come to get the Darshan of His Blissful Face! O, our Great Sai Baba—You’ve toiled here forty-four sweet yearsWhat merit have we won that You call all of us “My dears?” Let us kiss Your Lotus Feet, O God, on this auspicious dayGrant that there we’ll e’er remain, to never go astray! So on Your Glorious Birthday, Lord, may every heart rejoiceJAI! We are all reborn! We’ve hearkened to Thy Voice! ~Mrs. Michael ShultzSource: Sanathana Sarathi, Jan. 1971

The Hills of Puttaparthi The Hills of Puttaparthi Grey, rugged, stately, they stand, timeless, and serene:The morning sun turns them into a slate-blue wall,And in the soft rays of the setting sun, they glowWith fast-changing tints of a ravishing rainbow.They tell of old feuds, of man’s love and hate,Of the unbroken drama of his passion and grief.Perhaps in some dark caves amidst their rocky slopes,Above the gurgling waters of the meandering streams,Lived the Seers who had seen God face to face,And taught to weary mankind the Peace of the spirit.They still stand, the grey, rugged, stately hillsSerene, above the valley of green fields and tiny hamlets.And in the Valley, itself, a new Miracle is on.The Divine Formless in a human form has arisen,Teaching the ancient wisdom to seekers far and near.Unwearied, compassionate, His clarion-call He sounds:Awake and listen! For a new Voice in accents clear,Reverberates through these grey, rugged, and stately hills.  He Speaks He speaks and His words caress the spiritLike the soft petals of a new-blossomed flower.He smiles and the ripples of that smile spreadUnto the far reaches of the afflicted heart.The veiled mystery of birth and death,The soul’s perplexity and the spirit’s caverned gloomAre driven away with magic wave of His handRaised to cheer to bless and to sustainLonely pilgrim life’s rugged and thorny way ~H. Sunder RaoSource: Sanathana Sarathi, July 1964

Your Mercy Before I had the luckor as I see it nowYour Mercycame down on melike the star‑lightpenetrating throughthe encircling gloomI little knewwhat form to meditate. The gods of my fatherswere all thereall lying transfixedin a death-like tranceinert, unresponsivelike fragments of a phantom. All came aliveon a suddeneach rising afreshshaking off the dust of agesrestored to his pristine glorywhen in the star‑lightof Your Mercyflashed forth as formsthrough which you, my Swami,had manifested yourself. Such an impregnable rockis thrown up out of the quick-sands.My lost gods are recovered for me. Behind my closed eyesblooms out a worldrich with the fragranceof lotus‑feetthe twang of the arrowthe enchanting flute‑melodythe effulgence of the swan‑bornegoddess, her fingers playing at Vina,the drum, the trident,the snake‑roll, the crescentof Shiva the androgynous. ~Dr. P. P. Sharma, KanpurSource: Sanathana Sarathi, Nov.

Sanathana Sarathi In Dharmakshetra… KurukshetraArjuna had a Sarathi!He was such a master SarathiThat He won the war for him!He held the reins of all the horsesHe helped his arrows to find their preyHe gave him courage, opened his eyesAnd made him a little wise.  He saved him many a time from wrongHe taught hire statecraft, soul-craft both.He blessed him on the battlefieldWith a Vision, where he foundThat He was no mere charioteer—That He was horse and wheel and whipSource and stream and seaDinosaur, daffodil, flea. We all are Arjunas todayWilling to wound, afraid to strike,Grasping a doubt and calling it FaithEager to reap, unwilling to bendBlowing big trumpets before the fray—God on our lips, greed in our hearts.In Dharmakshetra, Jagat-kshetraWe all do need a Sarathi,To teach us and train us the Gita wayAnd, make us fit to see Him so. We all do need a Sarathi.We haven’t far to goHe is here before us, now,With His lovely welcome smile.The same who led to victoryMany a doubting warriorOn many a famous battlefieldWhere I did fight with heAnd we fell foul of they. He knows each nut and bolt and springHe knows each inch of road.The tiniest blemish He spots and checksNo crack can escape His instant careNo leak, no streak, no squeak. He knows the speed which we can standHe knows when the breakdown comes and whyHe is the Goal which you must reach.Choose Him (He has chosen you already now)And seat Him securely in the heart of heartsAnd the road is smooth, the weather fine. There are no ups and downsIt is all so cool—an easy driveYou have only to trust HimAnd keep yourself mumYou can sing your way alongAnd when you come to journey’s endYou find you are not you, but He! Install Him in your heartSathya Sai SarathiThis Sanathana Sarathi. ~N. KasturiSource:  Sanathana Sarathi, Feb 1968

The Darshan at Dawn In the darkness of the misty mornRise silent prayers from a waiting crowd,Each, in the solitude of his own thoughts,Waits and watches. The sun hath not risen yet,The mist still settles in the heavy air,All around, Nature in her native gloryWaits and watches. The doves are hidden in the niches,Each, in her turn, bides her time,As the lonely elephantWaits and watches. Anon, as from nowhere,In the center of the temple doorThe Living God appears,“Brighter than a thousand suns,”Radiant in form, robed in red,A halo of hair holding a beautiful face,Slender in figure, of graceful import,BABA stands before the silent crowd. There is a stir in the air,All hands are clasped in prayer,Gently, softly He walksA few steps forward,To feast the fasting eyesOf many a man, woman, and child,And cast an all‑embracing glance,As though drawing each soul to Himself,Moving His hand in circles slow,Palm upward, one couldn’t guess why. “Om Sri Sai Ram,” “Om Namo Namostu”Rise like a soft whisper from all around,An awe fills the air, a bliss sublime;All eyes are fixed on that form divine,Hearts full to the brim, with loveThat knows no understanding,Eyes, overflowing with joyful tears,Hands clasped together in ardent prayerThat one moment those divine eyesMay rest on each lowly formAnd bless it in abundance. The air is still, the distant hillsStand in obeisance,Peace reigns supreme, and then,As though all good things must end,The Radiant Form retreatsToward the silver door,A moment, and He is gone, —stillLeaving behind His Presence unseen. Was it a command?The mist lifts from the air,The birds are aloft,All nature hums with life,A stifled shuffle of footsteps,And the lingering crowds disperse. ~RatnavathiSource: Sanathana Sarathi, Feb. 1974

Gratitude I saw A Man…His Voice was sweet, like Nectar,(When it flows!)And, when He spoke, the words fell, soft, Like dew‑drops on a Rose;His step was firm where’er He walked…His Foot‑prints… shining‑bright,And, tho’ gentle was His Touch,He was A Man of Might! And, like A Halo round His Head,He wore His coal‑black hair;And Love, just like a sweet Bouquet,Was offered everywhere!He brought a new un‑cloudedView unto my human‑eyes,And, tho’ I knew not whence He came,I knew The Man was Wise! The graceful Robe, around His Form,Caressed Him…Like a Flame,And then, I learned from a passer‑by,`Sai Baba’ was His Name! I sat among the growing throng…And, eagerly, I sought to understandHis Mystery…That filled my every thought;I saw Him heal an ailing child… And, soon…The Name of ‘Sathya Sai’ was chanted,EVERYWHERE!And, silent, as a passing breeze,And bare‑of‑foot… He trod,And ‘something’ whispered in my soul“This is not Man… BUT GOD!” The years have passed on restless wings,And, strong; the Bond remains…And, when I cannot understand,He silently explains! There is no ‘goal’ I can’t achieve…No Load I cannot bearAs long as (in my human way!)I see His Footsteps there!His Smile is SomethingI recall with tenderness …. And awe!For me… He spreads a Shining Path,And opens every door… Today…I kneel in gratitude,As tear‑drops fill my eye,And, whisper‑soft, I speak the words“I love You, Sathya Sai…” ~G. B. AustraliaSource: Sanathana Sarathi, Oct. 1987

Hide and Seek We landed in Madras, but He was nowhere to be spied—That slice of Orange Robe amidst the crowd­—We suspected that the fellow who tipped us off had lied.And we scolded him in words, harsh and loud. But he knelt and begged our pardon—­Said he couldn’t take the blame;That Swami’s plans and movementsWere a `hide and seek’ game. He sent us off to WhitefieldTo enquire for Swami thereBut warned us, this could also be,A ‘hit and miss’ affair. We caught the train to Bangalore.From there to Whitefield hied­—Then we heard He’d left for OotyAnd we very nearly died. We waited with the monkeysOutside His Whitefield House;We waited like a patient catWatching the hole of a mouse. “He’ll be back in a couple of days,” they said,“Or a week or two at most.”“He was seen in Bangalore yesterday”“Or, may be, it was the Holy Ghost.” After waiting a week, we set out for OotyAnd got there, late, the next day;We were greeted by someone snootyWho said, “Swami is in Bombay”! Disappointed, frustrated, and down at heartWe sat and bewailed our fate;When a lady kind said, Swami was back,And we could see Him at the gate. But all we saw was a dome of hairThat filled the back of the carAnd a radiant smile as He raised His HandTo us who had come so far. He’d gone off on some sudden mission­—Nobody quite knew where;But would definitely be on the 21stAt Puttaparthi for a Festival there. We headed for Andhra’s rocky wildsBy train, pony‑cart and bus;And while the wheels were turning roundMy mind was churning thus. “Even if You stood before me nowA foot away in space,I’m so annoyed, I would not deignTo look upon Your Face.” But at Puttaparthi, our fate was the same;And our luck, we did deploreAs we saw the white car drive out of the gateAnd head for God‑knows‑where. I stormed and fumed, I fretted and cried,And wished I’d stayed at home and sighed,“I’ll wait for you in my little room—­”Resplendent Lord of Parthi, please come soon.” He came to me, soon, in a Vision,With a Love greater than mine;I could scarcely bear to look at Him,His gaze was so Divine. “Through how many ages in vain,”He said, “Have I chased after this heart!But now it is mine, O Dearest One,Can anything keep it apart?” ~AnonSource: Sanathana Sarathi, June 1977

Guru [Dedicated to Sai Baba } That Light because of whichMen see the sunWhose all-Pervading PresenceNone have felt.Whose prime essentialEssence is but OnePure Consciousness whereinAll else has dwelt. Thou are that truthThat never can be told,That sweetness taste canNever hope to know,That fragrance which noFlower can unfold­I look to Thee,Myself to see—and lo! —Henry Conyers, Santa Barbara  Incarnate in Every Age Dispelling the mass of Darkness pervading the worldA Divine Effulgence illumines the land of Bharat;The resonant OM reverberates over Earth and Sky!The Avatar—Truth Goodness Beauty all in One, has come!In every heart, awakening sublime deep‑hued in dream divine!By the holy Chitravati, ever‑famed, Prasanthi Nilayam shines.Dattatreya shines resplendent Hand assuring, `Why fear!’He is indeed the Trinity in One, Divine Mother in Beauty sublime.For afflicted man, thirsting for Peace He doles out GraceOf Love Divine; His nectarine voice rings Sathyam Shivam Sundaram.Omniscient, He knows the hearts’ craving the wordless prayer of man. Bestows fulfillment no knowledge unravels, Bestows His GiftsFrom portraits we prize: nectar, sacred ash! He does create, confer.To take men back to Godward way! Sing the Glory of the LordWith hearts well-dipped in Love.Pray to the Lord of your Heart,For all names are Mine! Yearn for Me and with you, He says, I shall be in a trice.To heal your killing maladies, anoint body mind and soul with holiness.Far or near, you are Mine, He says, And I am yours!My Love shall repair, heal and save, for I’ve come for youAs I have come in every age, says—The emblem of Infinite Love!Showering Grace, Grace and more Grace on all who want and all who can’tCome, then, kinsmen of the world! Let us Bask in the Sathya Sai Sun!Let us dip in the Sathya Sai Ganga!Unafraid, let us take refuge At His Lotus Feet! —Padmasri Sri Nalinabala Devi(Translated from Assamese, by Muktinath Bardoloi, Shillong) I, pure and simple, is different from I identified with the Bodyor Subtle Body or Body imagined in Dream Life.This pure and simple I, unidentified with anything, is God.This pure and simple I is `incessant awareness’. —BabaSource: Sanathana Sarathi, Aug. 1971

Soar Like a Lark We totter and grope in the darkIn the mire of ignorance; we flounder,Instead of soaring like a lark! Come, arise, awake, falter not,For, He is here; why fear? He is so near!Tune up the heart; cleanse the mind;Brush the cobwebs away.The grace, ever-present, doth flow—­O, take it in, my thirsty friend.We can hear the flute of the Lord; Why care for lesser joys?Let the Lotus bloom;Dance, O Dance to the music of His Name.The Name so fragrant, sweet, and pure;From millions of tongues, It echoes soft,From millions of hearts its pulse-beats rise. O the Glory and the EcstasyHis Name can bring!! —Dr. Keki M. Mistry, D. S. M. S.F.C.D, BombaySource: Sanathana Sarathi, Oct. 1967

Sing the Glory Here comes the Morning Star! The day intends to dawn!Awake from deep slumber and sing with birds the song!The World is Paradise now since Sathya Sai has come!Redeemed is all mankind, from sin sorrow and pain. He came in every age, and conferred man courage;Let us listen to His voice! It frees, fulfils.O God has come again, to lead and liberate!His boundless Love does bring Him down to bless. You and I are graced; we breathe the air He breathesWe behold; we can hold, His voice in happy ears,We Learn what He teaches; we strive to walkThe Path he trails, to the Goal He sets. Beside us, our Guide. He ever resides!Call on Him ‘Sai’! He is seen in a trice!Act as He asks, He reacts quick!His charm you can see in flower gem and wing! His Love is the sky under which we live!His Power is the wheel that moves our blood.His Wisdom sustains the Universe from age to age!His Grace is the treasure we must acquire.       ~Vivian JosephSource: Sanathana Sarathi, Oct. 1971