Meher Baba Bhakti
Meher Baba's Lovers
and the Path of Devotion

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Poems  by Mirek


Bill Gannett
Lyn Ott
Laurie Blum


Before we start making supper, Baba,
hold me in Your Love and kiss me again.
the way you did so many years ago,
when I was still growing into a man.

It took but one kiss on a cold and black
January morning to rip off my head -
which then rolled down through all
the Planes and Kingdoms of Creation,
revealing to me so many mysteries.

Finally it came to rest at God's Feet.
And when God picked up my head
and held it in His hands facing Him,
it was only then - somewhat to my surprise -
that I realised I was looking at and seeing God
in all His Oneness as Truth, Knowledge and Bliss.
I didn't know how I knew him as this -
only that I undeniably knew that I knew Him :
that I had always known Him and will always know Him -
for there was nothing to know but Him.

And as God held me before His Infinite Self
I could not help but express my great surprise
at seeing Him so close, so real and actual -
And I blurted out " You're really God aren't you !"
This seemed to amuse Him, for His Great
Universe - like Countenance was lit-up with
the gentlest and tenderest smile I'd ever seen.

When, a few years after this,
I met you , Baba,
I recognised God's Smile in yours.

Pouton, January 2011


Beloved , there's just no way
I can express how,
since you moved-into my heart,
the Living Presence of Your Love has
wholly and completely transformed
my entire self and life.

How even something like smoking
is no longer what it was.

How when I now smoke a cigarette,
I'm really conveying to you
how patiently - impatiently
I'm waiting and sighing and longing for
the moment when what was ripped - apart,
separated and exiled
returns Home as the Only One.

And how through the warm soothing smoke
you respond with a loving caress.


South Molton, July 2005


Even when I'm with someone else,
I feel you.

Even when I'm not talking to you,
I hear you.

Even when I'm not looking your way,
I see you.

Even when I'm ill, propped up in bed,
my bed is Your Open Hand holding me.

Even when I go my way, I find myself
on a train sitting next to you.

Even when I am lost and broken,
through a crack within myself
the Light of Your Love flows in.

Even when we fall out and I turn my back to you,
my back becomes an open door to you and
my heart rolls out as a carpet under Your Feet.

This is how hopeless and helpless
I've become to Your Love !


Pouton, Feb. 2011

poems by Mirek appear here by his permission