Text of poem
 
 
 
Alone we are born
And die alone
Yet see the red-gold cirrus
over snow-mountain shine.
Upon the upland road
Ride easy, stranger
Surrender to the sky
Your heart of anger.
 
– James K.Baxter a New Zealand poet (1926-1972)
 
Photo by Ranjit Swanson Sri Chinmoy Centre Galleries
 
Word spread across the countryside about the wise Holy Man who lived in a small house atop the mountain. A man from the village decided to make the long and difficult journey to visit him. When he arrived at the house, he saw an old servant inside who greeted him at the door. "I would like to see the wise Holy Man," he said to the servant. The servant smiled and led him inside. As they walked through the house, the man from the village looked eagerly around the house, anticipating his encounter with the Holy Man. Before he knew it, he had been led to the back door and escorted outside. He stopped and turned to the servant, "But I want to see the Holy Man!"
"You already have," said the old man. "Everyone you may meet in life, even if they appear plain and insignificant… see each of them as a wise Holy Man. If you do this, then whatever problem you brought here today will be solved."
Zen Story from: Zen Stories
Photo by: Abhishek, Sri Chinmoy Centre Galleries
There is a saying that a thief sees everyone else as a thief but a saint sees others as saints.
It can be difficult to implement in practise when we see the actions of others. The human mind is always quick to judge and usually in an unfavourable way.
However a person who has attained a certain level of spiritual understanding looks beyond the outer form and sees the heart and soul of others. If we feel others as part of our own extended reality we are inclined to adopt an attitude of forgiveness and tolerance.
Spiritual Teacher Sri Chinmoy says this
"Always take the whole world as part and parcel of your own existence. Do not take the world as a third party. If you take the world as a third party, then competition comes forward. Always see the world inside you- not before you, around you or behind you. See the world inside your own heart, inside your own divine reality. This divine reality is all beauty. Beauty is blossoming sleeplessly and breathlessly inside your heart."
https://www.srichinmoylibrary.com/sri-chinmoy-answers/part26/17.html
Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn?s rain.
When you awaken in the morning?s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.
I am not there. I did not die.
– Author (Mary Fyre)
– See more
In 1995 a BBC radio programme conducted a survey to find the nations
favourite poem. They decided the nations most favourite poems was