His face is everywhere: “… Lord of Love … who projects himself into this universe of myriad forms …” ~ Shvetashvatara Upanishad
“… I find that the testimony of the Hindu mystical tradition to the divinity within us all and the powers that stream from that divinity is of priceless practical usefulness and inspiration …” ~ Andrew Harvey
Andrew’s closing summary (excerpt above) in the Introduction from his anthology: Teachings of the Hindu Mystics (full attribution at the bottom of the post) … captures the essence of the Hindu tradition … the “core truth” of which according to Andrew is “… the mystery of a Spirit that pervades, creates, and transcends all things and of each soul’s conscious identity with it beyond space and time …”
We have been exploring some of Andrew Harvey’s work through excerpts from this anthology, via posts: Peaceful – An Invocation from the Vedas … and Realize Through Meditation – Highest Mystical Teaching … and Tantric Tradition, Andrew Harvey, & Kabir …
Today’s poem (from the same anthology) is a powerful reminder of the ever-present nature of our “divine origin” … and what happens when we forget it …
His Face Is Everywhere
MAY THE LORD of Love, who projects himself
Into this universe of myriad forms,
From whom all beings come and to whom all
Return, grant us the grace of wisdom.
He is fire and the sun, and the moon
And the stars. He is the air and the sea,
And the Creator, Prajapati.
He is this boy, he is that girl, he is
This man, he is that woman, and he is
This old man, too, tottering on his staff.
His face is everywhere.
He is the blue bird, he is the green bird
With red eyes; he is the thundercloud,
And he is the seasons and the seas.
He has no beginning, he has no end.
He is the source from which the worlds evolve.
From his divine power comes forth all this
Magical show of name and form, of you
And me, which casts the spell of pain and pleasure.
Only when we pierce through this magic veil
Do we see the One who appears as many.
Two birds of beautiful plumage, comrades
Inseparable, live on the selfsame tree.
One bird eats the fruit of pleasure and pain;
The other looks on without eating.
Forgetting our divine origin,
We become ensnared in the world of change
And bewail our helplessness. But when
We see the Lord of Love in all his glory,
Adored by all, we go beyond sorrow.
What use are the scriptures to anyone
Who knows not the one source from whom they come,
In whom all gods and worlds abide?
Only those who realize him as ever present
Within the heart attain abiding joy.
~~ From the Shvetashvatara Upanishad
All of the italicized text in the blockquotes and the above poem are from: Teachings of the Hindu Mystics, edited by Andrew Harvey.