Sacred Poetry
The Purpose of Life
The Purpose of Life, you see,
has nothing to do with Me.
Consciousness alone,
Becomes aware of its own
As Brahman breathes out,
The world comes about.
From amoeba to astronaut.
I self-importantly call:
Is there a point to it all?
Is there reason for being alive?
Am I just conditioned to strive?
My hidden purpose in evolution?
Is becoming conscious the solution?
Consciousness is continuously becoming
There is nothing more stunning!
What else is there to say;
does it matter how or what I play?
What more amazing is there to know
Than in me, Consciousness is there to grow.
In me, life's purpose fulfils,
As I surrender to what He wills!
The Lord carries everyone's face
Womb and tomb are the same space.
Returning into him, is the goal
Just like lost fish to their shoal.
Eternal breath absorbs into its source
Life fulfilled without force.
Joy melting into its destination,
Bliss fulfilling the purpose of creation.
Being in That, is nothing less,
than being in consciousness
The Purpose of Life, you see,
has nothing to do with Me.
Consciousness alone,
Becomes aware of its own
As Brahman breathes out,
The world comes about.
From amoeba to astronaut.
I self-importantly call:
Is there a point to it all?
Is there reason for being alive?
Am I just conditioned to strive?
My hidden purpose in evolution?
Is becoming conscious the solution?
Consciousness is continuously becoming
There is nothing more stunning!
What else is there to say;
does it matter how or what I play?
What more amazing is there to know
Than in me, Consciousness is there to grow.
In me, life's purpose fulfils,
As I surrender to what He wills!
The Lord carries everyone's face
Womb and tomb are the same space.
Returning into him, is the goal
Just like lost fish to their shoal.
Eternal breath absorbs into its source
Life fulfilled without force.
Joy melting into its destination,
Bliss fulfilling the purpose of creation.
Being in That, is nothing less,
than being in consciousness
