Sanathana Sarathi Salutations and Worship! O Sanathana Sarathi!Abide in Thee, Peace and Tranquility!Nobly from the Pranava didst Thou cast a Universe as of fun;Ambitious, Thine enemies knew not that Thou bestowed them their might!Truth (alack for them), remained mightier, that was rightHarnessing Vedas, Your Steeds, with valor uncommon!Allaying the fears of Arjuna, Thou didst reveal, “All” in Thee are “One”Neither the Sun can change the course ordained by Thee, nor the Moon.Almighty! Infuse courage in us to Thy knowledge soon!Saddle this vagrant horse—the wandering mischievous mind.Alas! This chariot totters, under the brunt of time! Be kind!Round the rugged path of Samsara, the wheels of Dharma and Truth give way!All the spokes of virtue trailing! The axel of Faith, too, bent away!Tired…… hope of goal receded……. I pray to Thee, Sri Sathya Sai!Herald of Redemption! Thou hast come! My all…I give Thee!In Thy Grace, help me steer to my End…. In Thee! ~B. V. RamanSource: Sanathana Sarathi, May 1960.

The Diadem Dark, Divine The Crown of Glory,The matted monarch curl,The mighty multi-millioned strand,This ever-static eternal emblem of this God;This Sign of Him, who dancesOn the cold snow of congealed hearts;This Charm of Him, who drives the herd,Bordered gold with sunset dust;The hair that sprinkles Grace, like April rain;This triumphal arch of majestyFor this solar super orb;The hair that is softest for the sight(So heavy it looks you often doubtCan this little frame carry all this weight?)This foil for the fairest face on earth,This umbra for the ultimate universal Light,Umbrella that shades stricken hearts,This flag, this mark, this hairy heraldry,That my Lord has chosen as the unique signFor His mystery and His mastery;This splendor, supreme, supernal,This spiraled sublimity,This awe-inspiring headgear grand,This heavenly halo,This coiled composite carefree coiffure;He twists and turns around, aroundThe wisps of wayward hair;He rolls it on His rollicking finger fast(He cannot but; His joy it overleaps)In cascades and in curves;The hair of the Lord is a mile an inch-This bushy beneficent bliss,This jungle of jangled joy;It is thick as the thirsts that torment the mindFor, He has to bear them all.“Bring all your griefs, your loss and pain-This mass of hair shall bear them all,” He says.“This is a ‘for-rest’ for your rest.”Each hair can bear a nation’s woe;The cluster can carry the Universe, or even worse.If you but peer into the curlsYou can see the silver crescent, casting opal glowAmidst the tangled silk;The hair hallucinates and holds the eyeIn sinuous snaky bonds;The Ganga gleams in shimmering wavesMidst those cavernous depths;The peacock plume, you can discern,Fluttering proud in Jumna breeze.The locks, the mats, the convolutes,That humble man has pictured on the head of GodThe serpent crested jewel that He adornsThe Divine Head designed by Him, for His own joy-Are all upon this wondrous bunchOf sable sovereignty.And O, the charm that dawns,The glory that it helps reveal,The healing shade it casts,The hope of harvest,This cluster of rain heavy clouds does bringTo parched breasts of grief!This Night of Rest, Repose,For tired eyes and hands and hearts;The crown of hair;(The tamas)Above this face of Grace,(The satwic splendor)The crimson gown,(The Rajas charm)O, may this picture of the Diadem DivineBe ever ever imprintedOn the cleanliness of our heats.                           ~N. Kasturi                          [Read in the Divine Presence: 10-10-67]                        Source: Sanathana Sarathi, Nov. 1967

Admonition My dearest SELF! Bear all; and Do nothing!Hear all; and Say nothing!Give all; and Take nothing!Serve all; and Be nothing.                           —Everyman Baba on Himself  IN THE NAME BABA, B         MEANS BEING: SATHA         MEANS AWARENESS: CHITHB         MEANS BLISS: ANANDAA         MEANS THE SOUL: ATMA The Name Means         I am the Sat-Chit‑Ananda Swarupa Atman—The Omnipresent, Omniscient, All‑Blissful, of which you, too, are Expressions. Source: Sanathana Sarathi, April 1971 Sai Krishna We are the instrumentsThe Flutes on whichthe Great One plays His melodiesSometimes it is the pompous march of a Statesman ……… Again, the wailing of a beggar …..Perhaps the heavy sound of a Dictator…Or the lilting melody of a Dancer…Artist, Poet……The minor tones of refugee agony—orDepicting war…Pestilence …Karma’s grief…And, yet, the Master‑Hand may playthe notes of Saint, Prophet …Savior…Permeating the air with Peaceand Fullness of Pure Being… ALL THESE, GOD PLAYS ON US in perfect Harmony, if we are but tunedin EVER READINESSNo matter what the melodywhether stately march—or little tinkling notes…of housewife’s song— Each must be in tuneTo make the perfect whole!No one greater …nor lesserThan the next; forALL make upTHE ONE, GREAT SYMPHONYOF LIFE.                    ~Hilda Charlton, New York                  Source: Sanathana Sarathi, April 1971

The Puttaparthi Countryside Thus it is:When sitting stillOn the side. of a mountain—An ancient, arenaOf rugged reptile rockCarefully carvedBy the soothing strokeOf nurturing Nature.The Glory of People’s ToilPasses by, on compassionate Earth,Under ancestor treesOf greens and ageing leaves.Man miraculously movesWith the tremor of termites­—A permanent, pulsating procession.Like walking templeHe carries the heightOf hewn steadfastnessFrom life…………to death,To……………….life,To……………… live, forever!                                        ~Anthony, MaltaSource: Sanathana Sarathi, April 1971

At the Feet of Sai AL‑ZAHIRO: THE MANIFESTRed Rose of Persian bards;Heart‑throb of Upanishadic seersWho heard Your footstepsIn the recesses of their souls,And saw the universe sustainedBy the harmony of Your gentle breath.What veils, My Lord, have you lifted from my mind! — Is this the shadow of Your Orange RobeThat makes the evening so lovely,The landscape quiet in its russet mood?The dawn so enchantingly fresh?The earth is sacred now for it bearsThe prints of Your tiny Feet.Your smile is in the flowers;In the brilliance of dazzling sunlight;In the crystal purity of water.The vast stretches of space reflectThe silky depths of Your eyes­— Half‑closed in Divine Ecstasy;And the whole world is vibrantWith echoes of Your unspoken Love. —Zeba Bashiruddin. In Islamic mysticism God is remembered by His 99 attributes. Al‑Zahiro refers to the manifested aspect of God. To the Persian Sufis, Rose, especially red rose, was the symbol of God as the beloved, while the nightingale represented the human soul yearning for the Rose. Source: Sanathana Sarathi, July 1982

The Secret Silence is the Secret of God-realization:Nothing can approach to its perfection.Silence, Silence, is true and sincere;Silence alone can overcome all fear. God is silent; but He talks from within;One can hear Him if one is serene,And silent: Oh!  How I enjoy His Presence,Together with His sweet vocal essence! Silence is golden, perfect and pure;There’s nothing on earth which can cureMan’s mental illness except SilenceWhich is God’s native brilliance.                                 ~K. VaidyanathanSource: Sanathana Sarathi, Nov. 1962

A Song from Beyond the Seven Seas You are in my heart, as I am in your heart,We are just one heartCalled Soham, called Love.Sai, you are in my heart, as I am in your heartThere is only one heartEternally Love. You are the Ocean, I am your wave,You are the Mountain, I am the cave,You are the blue sky, I am your starSai, You are my Lover,Wherever you are. You are the flower, I am the bee,You are the brown earth, I am your tree,You are the father, I am your son,Sai, OmnipresenceFrom you, I have come. You are the green tree, I’m your clinging wine,You are the poet, I am your rhyme,You are the raindrops, I’m your flower wild,Sai, Divine MotherI am your loving child. You are the full moon, I am your beam,You are the dreamer, I am your dream,You are the year, I am your day, You are the river, I am your flow,You are the director, I am your show,You are the wild wind, I am your cryYou’re Durga Mata, Your tiger am I. You are in my heart, as I am in your heart,Sai, We are one heart,Called Soham, called Love. ~Sung: Lite Storm, CaliforniaSource: Sai Sarathi, Sept. 1973

The Game is Yours You tell me—Follow the master,But the Master is the Monkey‑mind!You urge: Face the devil,Six devils stare at me!And Fight to the end, You Insist,I am already at my wit’s end!Finish the game, You demand,Lord, I am not the player, but played upon! Then, wait no more; my King,Take up arms, and occupy This land;And to this famished soulLet Thy Panchajanya Sing.The monkey shall go,The devils will flee,The fight shall be done,And the game is, as always,Yours, and yours, and yours. —B. H. MiersSource: Sanathana Sarathi, August 1978

The Supreme Benediction We waited, hushed and expectant,Our eyes rivetted on the portico beyond the gates.The trees spread shadeOn a thousand yearning hearts.We knew our Lord was here,Within those walls, so nearAnd yet so far. Suddenly Baba is before usTime stands still; He comes nearer.Infinite compassion rains from His eyesInfinite love pours from His smile…We drown blissfully in this flood of Grace.Breathless we gaze, adoreAnd quench our thirstFor the Supreme BenedictionOf Baba’s darshan. Fellow-pilgrim! Even as you gaze at HimAnd His timeless face, under the mop of hairWith its awesome majesty of a thundercloud……Realize that you are face-to-faceWith the Formless One, the Eternal One,The One without Attributes, who has now takenA Form and a Name, to re-establish dharmaAnd dissolve the giant agony of man. Realize again when you touch His FeetThat your fingers hold for a fleeting secondThe Ultimate Sanctuary sought by sages and saintsThe Abode of all atmas [soul], the Seat of muktiAnd the manifest Portals of moksha [liberation].Recognize, therefore, in your yearning for His FeetYour soul’s homesickness. Darshan is over; we begin to disperse.The trees spread shade nowOn a thousand brimming hearts.A hum of talk rises with the dust.Hush! Let us ponder over this Vision of Glory……Do we deserve so much?O Bhagavan! O Sri Parthi Nilaya! O Sai Guru!Help us become worthy of your Grace. ~D. NarenderSource: Sanathana Sarathi, Sept. 1965