Dearest Precious Master,
What I wished for most was that I could do much, much more for You
in Your time of most need, since You have always been there for
us in our hours of need. The following poem came to me during one
of the special group meditation sessions we organized to pray for
You.
Understanding that the life and body of a Master is a total sacrifice
for the benefit of all beings doesn't diminish my sympathy
My life in Your hands,
Alistair Conwell,
Perth, Australia.
(Fellow Initiate)
Let
me be Your pillow,
On which Your burdened head shall rest.
And let me be Your mirror,
To reflect Your Light the best.
Let me be Your mattress,
On which Your weary body shall lay.
And let me be Your moon,
To mercifully end Your anguished day.
Let
me be Your servant,
Who comes promptly when You call.
And let me be Your footsteps,
That descend from mountains tall.
Let me be Your dream,
That You sleep with alone at night.
And let me be Your love,
That delivers lost souls to flight.
Let
me be Your ground,
To support Your every step.
And let me be Your handkerchief,
To gently dry Your tears wept.
Let
me be Your balm,
To heal Your unseen wounds.
And let me be Your hope,
That on each new day balloons.
Let
me be Your temple,
In which You can retreat to pray.
And let me be Your unspoken words,
That I often hear You say.
Let
me be Your solace,
To embrace Your lonely sighs.
But, above all else,
Let me be Your sacrifice,
Who willingly lays down and dies.
(*Master cried while reading this poem!)