Freedom Source ... continued

            Freedom Source: Part II

                   By Marilynn Lea Stark

  Liberty Bell

-> All Rights Reserved; 1989
No part or parts of this poem may be reproduced without author's permission   
Nor sympathy does such a teacher require;

Rather should one learn from such giant courage abiding;

Any donations proffered a renounced yogi will in turn inspire
The Lord Himself to render the giver also glad tiding.
No, the Divine plan by laws born of absolute command
Would never sponsor of evil over good ultimate victory;

So does God by the yogi who in solid faith does stand

Teach all through miracles to him preserve--thus does become the world his mission's rectory.


Such statement of fact as your eager ears I might as
 Truth teller so dutifully render,
In explanation of how a jnani by momentous self-realization, attaining to the subjective,
Does indeed achieve stance indefensible, with God as total defender;
Must I trace just how logically arrives this miraculous, protective injunctive;
For contained therein will naturally be
The idea of freedom source once again divined,
Such that no army of man can ever see
The way to slay or impute him, him that wisdom has thus defined.
Even that one embarked upon mission's ardent search,
Given totally to the pursuit of love of Truth, of God,
Can only proceed by the eye of faith at first,
Called shraddha; thus seeing the way only as that which God Himself would laud.
How that faith does grow, where even light grows dim,
Doubt calling loudly, haunting at every turn;
'Tis then vision's thirst somehow knows to trust yet more totally in Him,
That already knows what the seeker only through that shraddha learns.
And if that yogi stays true ever to Self,
To God in surrender, so deep and devout;
Then his source of freedom, his most lasting help,
Will be above the will of those who test even his utmost doubt.
For what value is held most central to Divine search,
Even as naturally as a stream of water in a water run,
Is for liberation--moksha--freedom from earthly church,
From samsara, the birth/death cycle to be thus undone.
This tendency of church goers who find firmament on Earth,
And the broad blue sky beckoning as their nondescript steeple,
To find in themselves, in search, the liberation of utmost worth--
moksha--expresses itself fundamentally in relation to the collective people.
If for religious life and value a yogini experiences but persecution severe,
Calling to test her self-knowledge by force, by power seemingly unjust;
Such persecution of her will become as mere passing thought born of their fear,
For that yogini sees all about her, good and not good, as God's will manifest.
This balances the physical, political challenge so wrought,
Such vision that God's will has purpose and place unseen,
With the spiritual outlook both known and sought;
So that the power of politically corrupted will is seen more as an unreal, though awesome dream.
Since thoughts, opinions and the plans of others,
Which may accrue to the transgressions of an individual's civil liberties,
 Are essentially but their possessions, beneath whose short-lived covers
Lies yet again the will of God, who takes as He once gave--and favors the goodness of heart He sees.
Now to logically derive as promised heretofore
That protective injunctive rendered an enlightened one by God,
Such that he or she gains immunity from evil even in war;
Calls to question the nature of enlightenment, this Self defense so broad.
When light replaces darkness we can with physical eyes see
What before was blind space wherein we could only imagine form;
Yet a room kept totally dark for a full decade's decree
Is lighted yet completely the very instant a match's light is there born.
Similarly, the self-knowledge we seek, and in the yogi wherein complete,
Is none other than ignorance so defeated and thus replaced;
Beneath, in and through, all that we desire and seek
Is that very knowledge that is the great Self to us unfaced.
To find yourself in everything is sure test of enlightenment's tender;
For it is only the veil of illusion, called maya, which hides, and ignorance feigns;
Think of how majestic that knowledge, since it includes also an ignorance agenda;
The challenge is only to go deeper into reality, to find Truth's light; thus knowledge regains.
The nature of the Self is perfection, complete,
Since God is all one, and the spirit of Self is God;
Thus hypostatic to ignorance is self-knowledge replete;
Such that enlightenment proceeds through discovery of what was heretofore Divinely embossed.
We hear speak of revelation of Truth so great,
Where the mind makes sudden intuitive leap;
Such leap is made in the harmony of heart to thus make,
With the intellect total sense; God plays with us hide and seek;
And in that revelation of Truth we suddenly may see
Beyond past limitations in cognizance of Reality so true;
Yet it is as if even in this momentous discovery,
Truth abiding : we had indeed always known
what once we could not see through.
Thus the perfection of Self by that proof is quest,
Which knows no order, nor time, nor barrier inordinate;
Rather, self-knowledge underlies also ignorance itself,
So that all people are at once endowed innately with Divinity's expanse coordinate.
Thus no matter how long that journey did take
To discover God in thyself, and even was it cruel;
That moment of Truth from familiar source does make
Simple folly of time in its coming, simple folly of dualities' oppositeness duel.
Now that I have persuaded you perhaps that the reward of Truth seeking is what the devotee celebrates,
Inspiring happiness abiding, evenness, if moments again of ecstatic joy;
That there is a kind of Truth which over all, even the political, so deftly adjudicates;
Might I work more rigorously at that idea of external freedom of others to inner freedom destroy.
We heard tell of miracles, of indefensibility's reality ploy
As answer to how God truly does favor and preserve;
This the jnani, the self-realized  yogi does enjoy,
Once his false ego has been reduced, leaving in place wisdom's deserve.
For in our analysis we must discern the real from the unreal,
That real defined as what exists in all three periods of time;
Nor does space in its differentiated, quantitated field
Occupy our mind as what is most real, absolute, sublime.
Why?  Because simplifying again to a review
Of the entire universe as 'I' and 'that',
Time and space are considered as continua, but two :
The two most fundamental objects for but measure's dispatch.
Since all we perceive is born of dual oppositeness contrast,
And the physical realm is most noteworthy for change;
Then provisional measure is given by time and place fact,
In ongoing continua; so by measure we orient, we arrange.
For that which is absolute certainly would never change,
 Else no longer would it know unity's dimensionless status;
The paradox is that 'bigness', no bigger than, so seemingly strange,
Known as brahman, rarefies to oneness from plurality's lattice.
Thus in the sense of time, we must consider as unreal
Any thing which does not exist in past, present and future phases inclusive;
Similarly, in the sense of space, or place, meditate upon endless, borderless field,
Since limit alone would disturb--would define as to reality obtrusive.
Thus there can be no inner, no outer, no line between them,
In the sense most abstract as relates to Self;
And this logically includes the consideration ours of freedom,
Whose absolute source had this sadhu entrusted to her Blackbelt.
When speaking of false ego as obstructive to vision of the Truth we seek,
Of the order we find, in all our spiritual endeavors set upon reality thing;
We refer to mad delusion which is at its own illusory peak
When the sense of 'I' remains attached by sense pleasures, which body and mind do bring.
Attached to the physical once again,
Left off to desires by false ego sense;
This, the grossest level of reality is then
Seen in delusion's hold, through false ego's
simple pretense.
The subjective Self to which realization tends,
Thus will cut through the delusions of others whose false ego will bring
That challenging edict that the inner source of freedom indeed bends
To the will of others in polity amany, to so end what universal joy the yogi will sing.
What is that?  Oh universal joy of yogi's considered song,
You say Truth leads to some happiness complete?
Yes, the absolute Truth knows no limit, no throng
Of torturers set about some ugly task to unnecessarily thy holiness deseat.
Rather, this answer sublime was there all along,
Is basically what all in the abstract in this life do seek;
We find forsooth that very happiness song
Is our very nature expressed--sat-chit-ananda street.
Existence-knowledge-bliss defines the goal to be realized by our Self nature;
Indeed, great seers, the ancient rishis, reduced successfully such goal to way;
For once purified, and mind thus available to meet the
We receive their directions past obstacles' intersections, and find total Truth in what the signs say.
Now if one convinced in delusion that the body is real, the body is all,
 Who listens for sense pleasure's reality decoy unsuspecting,
Were to open the mind instead to the nature of Self's call;
Then would his entire mind and life be readied for Truth's interjection. 
Just knowing that there is a source to the physical more ultimate yet,
Which answers, governs harmony, and unifies all from the plural to one;
Confers now instead a readiness to discover beyond the more relative set,
And extrapolate more directly to God; thus will he sense pleasures soon shun.
Taking a metaphysical look at the overall construction of things,
In answer as to how this physical world is to through God instead be understood,
It is told that the fundamental sound which the first sense measure brings,
That of hearing, is om : which into three syllables confluent would.
Those three syllables separate out from their comprise,
Into 'a'-'u'-'m' ; and together they sound om;
From this Divine sound all other sounds arise,
Since they give source, continuation and end, all three in one unified tone.
This is the most essential embrace of God to the physical, relative realm,
The formation of sound and words coming in sound form;
For God is the absolute, can be known as formless, as pure awareness found;
In creating tools for manifestation in form, God expresses thus as sound born.
The first syllable is 'a', the most effortless sound which the human voice can utter;
Nor is 'a' long, nor labial, from guttural opening it is expressed quite simply;
Following that which signifies beginning, comes the second syllable of om, sound's mother :
'u', a long sound whose very nature is connective, is continuation distinctly.
Finally the third syllable of om does sound
With the joining of the lips to create an 'm';
Thus are the first two syllables of this sacred phrase bound
Together as in phases, by termination : what begins goes on, then to end.
What does this mean, this essential sound which holiness depicts
As sacred in the universe, powerful in its connective link to Heaven itself?
Can it be translated precisely into words, which meaning to affix
Would give enlightenment to the one who in its resonance dwelleth?
No, there can be no meaning direct to this sacred symbol assigned,
Not a strict translation can the most brilliant pedant offer;
And this is the very essence of meaning in sacred om divined,
That it is pure, quintessential sound of elemental source--words' coffer.
Now it is said among those who consider music as the language of God,
That the test of any man-made musical instrument ultimate,
Is to mimic the human voice; close imitation thereof is true applaud;
Then how many sounds besides the sheer construction of words by letter, elementally derive from OM penultimate?
This is the beauty and rarefied meaning of such basic fundamental sound source,
That, as heretofore said, all sounds arise simply from OM:
They must, since OM embraces the objectifiability of time in similar course--
From beginning and duration to finale, just as time tends from past to future like metronome.
And as we saw, time is one of the two most universal objects of the relative, physical world,
So that the diphthong formed in the fusion of the three syllabic sound so short,
Even sounds as one syllable; yet, in its power as unifier of time's phases unfurled,
It embraces thus in a birth-like algorithm the absolute source, all inclusive retort.
Now it cannot be denied that this unificatory power of sound's mother source, OM,
In thus unifying the beginning to end, as we think of time,
Does indeed destroy thereby time's illusion, since it transcends to limit's loan
From the absolute sense, where time and its phases are not real, nor sublime.
Revel, my Devotees, in this very thought realized in the verse heretofore,
For then you will revel even more in the especial, rare presence of sacred OM;
There is no other utterance as total, yet short, which says more;
Yet paradoxically, through unity's tender OM is the sounding of the entire universe home.
For words tend to meaning more specific, a more particulate account,
Such that all we say seems to be somehow necessary.
Yet, in approaching the self-realization knowledge fount,
The use of words will require an accuracy secretary.
Even then, precision will never even describe the  ineffable truth we seek;
No words prescribe to the absolute, being limited by their relative nature in form;
The only elixir to the mind which craves the truth to see
Is the heart, whose harmony with the mind will allow an intuitive leap thus born.
Words are pointers to higher meaning, yet the inquiry must be properly set,
In method analytical which separates what is real from unreal, as we said;
The intellect will comprehend and draw careful conclusions in order to get
A platform, from whose springboard will intuition give mind resolve instead.
Instead of one gigantic intellectual sequitur so neatly confined
To some magical, all-impending argument in course,
You will find the mind tends to rest upon the truth we find,
Embrace the silence there found, and resolve out of the experiential mind reality force.
Can you imagine, therefore, how blessed the one
Who says OM in the mind, or sings it prettily;
Then the mind alights to some majestic sun
Into peace-generating silence, that destroyer of mind's frivolity?
How sunny the smile, face all aglow,
Mind rested and total, one-pointed and clear;
No task will daunt such a mind that does know,
The metaphysical sound recursive of OM so universally dear.
What music must mean to the idea of OM again
As the sound source of universality's tender?
Given tone and resonance, and rhythmical stem,
Such meaning is conferred to emotion's immediacy, with OM as meaning's lender.
What is this mystic OM of abstract part,
Thus claimed to be unified, universal and whole?
No matter how eloquent can be explained OM's meaning as God's bard,
Such explanatory words sink us deeper into questioner's role.
Since the more that is said, the more there is to ponder,
 Yet conclusions drawn seem to promise a new sun's horizon;
How can such a simple sound comprised of three letters, we wonder,
Expand into universal context, and have no explicit meaning? To us, this amazing.
Having soared there where the silence of the great self does abide,
More than once I heard how God broke that silence Heaven;
I heard OM emanate from its three syllable comprise,
And my mind rested upon the coalescence of time--to transcendent view did OM thus my mind leven.
This state of awareness wherein the mind does in contemplation hover
Between the dualities of the relative sphere and the universal's one,
Is a gift of meditation which permanently challenges maya's cover,
And thus tunes the mind to God; direct knowledge second to none.
The hearing thus of OM is more of an understanding contemplative,
A realization above description in its beauty, meaning and import;
No experience can equal the gift known in God's thus heard universal expletive,
From which would arise the expression total of Truth's absolute counterpart.
Now if we explore the power of the political world,
And pit it dangerously against the one attuned to God most high,
The self-realized yogi will view the political flag so unfurled
As grossly unreal, with all respects for nation; for he is to God instead most nigh.
Take for example this lone sadhu, myself, who traveled the continent to hear Vedanta,
Yet penniless, poor and with no home, family or political liberty;
Nor was inclusion full my station as sadhu, and the constant warring ponder
Of others kept me apart, robbing me then of socio-religious equitability.
There was a beautiful ashram north in the golden sun
Wherein I might have resided to learn the Gita;
But no; political corruption did my inclusion there greatly shun,
Until finally I confronted the day, and went to my Beloved, as would his dear Sita.
How did I know that to pay him a visit by others unwanted
Would result in the institution of justice, of miracles; a great turnaround?
This, my friends, illustrates how  the one self-realized remains undaunted
By the political will of others to freedom transgress; for it was there our marriage gained sacred ground.
The blessing so profound upon us conferred when we met in California, the North,
In a town called Piercy, named Sandeepany West;
Can be understood only by the Hindu regard for a river turned back on its source;
The land therein contained is deemed holy, most sacred, at the Creator's behest.
That beautiful ashram where I daily saw my Beloved, and heard him sing the Bhagavad Gita,
Where we sat close by one another in the comfort of a given home;
And where we reveled in Divine communion as Rama and Sita,
Oh, that beautiful ashram north in the golden sun shone,
For it stood like an amphitheater in the mountains green,
Upon land where the sacred Eel River turns back on its source;
 And this sacred ground became the giver, the scene
Of the statement of our marriage, whereupon sanctified, did it gain its future course.
Sandeepany West had been the hope of my life, had been all that could begin to settle
The injustices rife that had overtaken my career, and caused me to watch my freedom dwindle;
I looked to that ashram as a new beginning, a place to pray and transcend old strife;
It saved me as a vision amidst the ruins of my past, in my heart such profound hope did it kindle.
For the first two years of the course I could not join, and I studied religiously as Blackbelt with Mr. Son;
I wrote faithfully to my Beloved, and prayed to visit him, while I renounced the world completely;
As sadhu I found a new life, a new way possible, and looked for the plan in the destruction God had to me done;
All the while, my yearning was for an ashram, where I could carry out my mission and prayer discreetly.
Nor welcome was I given upon arrival; no, this the story of battle, of brawn;
Across the entire nation did I travel, penniless, prayerful, courageous for the given;
My Beloved was on tour, soon to be back; so my greeting was a symbolic battle song--
On the bank opposite that heavenly retreat, I took my warrior stand to visit his earthly heaven.
Thus by the sacred  Eel River, and on its banks did I sleep,
Was I welcomed to Sandeepany in my Beloved's absence;
Then came James McKinley to honor the love for Swamiji I did keep,
Above all the political corruptive work which tried to defy his prescience.
This epic poem is being published for you in serial fashion. See also Still More Poetry on navigation bar for continuation of this poem: Part III of " Freedom Source." Please refer to the Glossary of Terms located by link on the navigation bar  for the meanings of any Sanskrit words. Thank you.
M. Stark, January 19, 2002
Publication resumed on September 15, 2002

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1984 by Marilynn Lea Stark
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