About Paramahansa Yogananda
1893 - 1952/IndianParamahansa Yogananda is one of the greatest spiritual figures of the twentieth century, and also was one of the first Spiritual Masters to bring the Yoga of the East to the aspiring West. Yogananda was born in Gorakhpur, Bengal in 1893. Originally h
Poetry & Stories
Samadhi
Vanished are the veils of light and shade,Lifted the vapors of sorrow,Sailed away the dawn of fleeting joy,Gone the mirage of the senses.Love, hate, health, disease, life and death Departed, these false shadows on the screenof duality.Waves of laughter, scyllas of sarcasm, whirlpools
Come To Me O Krishna
O Krishna, Lord of Hindustan, I sorrowed by the lonely Jumna river bank, where Thy flute-notes thrilled the air and led the lost calves to their homes. O Lotus of Love, musing on the sad absence of Thy delusion-dispelling eyes, I saw Thine invisible Spirit take form, frozen by my devotion's frost.Thy divine form of sky-blue rays, with feet of eternity, walked on the banks of my mind, planting lasting footprints of realization there. I am one of Thy lost calves which followed Thy flower-footprints on the shoals of time. Listening to the melody of Thy flute of wisdom, I am following the middle path of calm activity, by which Thou hast led many through the portals of the dark past into the light.Since all of us are of Thy fold, whether moving, sidetracked, or held stationary by the fogs of disbelief, O Divine Christ-na, lead us back to Thy fold of everlasting freedom. O Krishna, Thou reignest on the heart-throne of each knower of Thy love.From: Whispers from EternityA Book of Answered Prayers
Come To Me as Buddha
O Buddha, the gold vein of thy sermon of mercy ran through gloom-gorged, rocky hearts, and illumined their darkness.Thou loftiest soarer of renunciation's skies, beneath thy God-lifted eyes, the kingdom of sense-comfort, the rivers of gross greed, the vast and lust-scorched deserts of desire, the tall trees of temporal ambition, the cactus plants of prickly world-worries—all melt into invisible smallness.Buddha, the arc-light of thy sympathy sought to melt the hardness of cruel hearts. Once thou didst save a lamb by offering thyself in its stead.Thy solemn thoughts still silently roam through the ether of minds, searching for ecstasy-tuned hearts. Seated beneath the banyan bodhi tree, thou didst make a solemn tryst with the Spirit: "Beneath the banyan bough,On the sacred seat I take this vow:
What is Love?
Love is the scent with the lotus born.It is the silent choirs of petalsSinging the winter’s harmony of uniform beauty.Love is the song of the soul, singing to God.It is the balanced rhythmic dance of planets - sun and moon litIn the skyey hall festooned with fleecy clouds –Around the sovereign Silent Will.It is the thirst of the rose to drink the sunraysAnd blush red with life.‘Tis the promptings of the mother earthTo feed her milk to the tender, thirsty roots,And to nurse all life.It is the urge of the sunTo keep all things alive. Love is the unseen craving of the Mother DivineThat took the protecting father–form,And that feeds helpless mouthsWith milk of mother’s tenderness.It is the babies’ sweetness,Coaxing the rain of parental sympathyTo shower upon them.It is the lover’s unenslaved surrender to the belovedTo serve and solace.It is the elixir of friendship,Reviving broken and bruised souls.It is the martyr’s zeal to shed his bloodFor the well-beloved fatherland.It is the ineffable, silent call of the heart to anotherheart.It is the God-drunk poet’s heartachesFor every creature’s groans. Love is to enjoy the family rose of petal-beings,And thence to move to spacious fields -Passing by portals of social, national, international
Nature’s Nature
Away, ye muses, all away!Away with songs of finch and fay.Away the jaundiced sightThat magnifies the firefly’s lightTo bonfire bright;That sets ablaze at onceMy musing’s dimly burning lamps;That ornaments with rhymesThe penury-stricken looks betimes;That over-clothes the logic – lordWith fancy –swollen words.Away, the partial loveThat ‘boldens Nature to sit aboveHer Maker! This day I fasten eyelid doors,With absence wax my ears,With languorous peace congealMy tongue, my touch, my tears *That I within may poreUpon the things behind, ahead,In the darkness round me spread.I lock Dame Nature outWith all her fickle rout. Somewhere here,In the darkness drear,I myself with cheerMy course will steerIn the pathE’er sought by all:Its magnet callI hear. Not hear, not here,Apollo would his burning chariot steer;Nor Diana dare to peepInto the sacred silence deep. Not here, not here,Not far or nearCan mounts or rebel wavesE’er make me full of fear;Nor evermoreTheir dreadful grandeur to adore. Not here, not hereThe soft capricious wiles of flowers;Nor swarming storm clouds’ sweeping terror,Dishevelling the treesAnd light-haired skies;Nor doomsday’s thunderous roar,Dismantling earth and stars-The cosmic beauties all to mar –Not Nature’s murderous mutiny,Nor man’s exploding destinyCan touch me here. Not here, not here:Through mind’s strong iron bars,Not gods or goblins, men or nature,Without my pass dare enter. I look behind, ahead –On naught but darkness tread.In wrath I strike, and set the dark ablazeWith the immortal spark of thought,By friction-process broughtOf concentrationAnd distraction.The darkness burnsWith a million tongues;And now I spyAll past, all distant things, as nigh. I smile sereneAs I expose to gaze.In wisdom’s brilliant blaze,All charms of the Hidden Home Unseen:The Home of Nature’s birth,The planets’ moulding hearth,The factory whence all forms or fairies start,The bards, colossal minds, and hearts,The gods and all,And all, and all! Away, awayWith all the lightsome lays!Oh, now will I portrayIn humble way,And try to lisp, if only in half truths,Of wordless charms of Thee Unseen,To whom Dame Nature owes her nature and her sheen.
About Paramahansa Yogananda
Paramahansa Yogananda: Quick Answers
Who is Paramahansa Yogananda?
1893 - 1952/IndianParamahansa Yogananda is one of the greatest spiritual figures of the twentieth century, and also was one of the first Spiritual Masters to bring the Yoga of the East to the aspiring West. Yogananda was born in Gorakhpur, Bengal in 1893.
Where can I read Paramahansa Yogananda's poetry?
Kavishala has 9 poems and stories by Paramahansa Yogananda, free to read on this page, along with selected quotes you can share.
Poems & Stories by Paramahansa Yogananda
Samadhi
Vanished are the veils of light and shade,Lifted the vapors of sorrow,Sailed away the dawn of fleeting joy,Gone the mirage of the senses.Love, hate, health, disease, life and death Departed, these false shadows on the screenof duality.Waves of laughter, scyllas of sarcasm, whirlpools
Come To Me O Krishna
O Krishna, Lord of Hindustan, I sorrowed by the lonely Jumna river bank, where Thy flute-notes thrilled the air and led the lost calves to their homes. O Lotus of Love, musing on the sad absence of Thy delusion-dispelling eyes, I saw Thine invisible Spirit take form, frozen by my devotion's frost.Thy divine form of sky-blue rays, with feet of eternity, walked on the banks of my mind, planting lasting footprints of realization there. I am one of Thy lost calves which followed Thy flower-footprints on the shoals of time. Listening to the melody of Thy flute of wisdom, I am following the middle path of calm activity, by which Thou hast led many through the portals of the dark past into the light.Since all of us are of Thy fold, whether moving, sidetracked, or held stationary by the fogs of disbelief, O Divine Christ-na, lead us back to Thy fold of everlasting freedom. O Krishna, Thou reignest on the heart-throne of each knower of Thy love.From: Whispers from EternityA Book of Answered Prayers
Come To Me as Buddha
O Buddha, the gold vein of thy sermon of mercy ran through gloom-gorged, rocky hearts, and illumined their darkness.Thou loftiest soarer of renunciation's skies, beneath thy God-lifted eyes, the kingdom of sense-comfort, the rivers of gross greed, the vast and lust-scorched deserts of desire, the tall trees of temporal ambition, the cactus plants of prickly world-worries—all melt into invisible smallness.Buddha, the arc-light of thy sympathy sought to melt the hardness of cruel hearts. Once thou didst save a lamb by offering thyself in its stead.Thy solemn thoughts still silently roam through the ether of minds, searching for ecstasy-tuned hearts. Seated beneath the banyan bodhi tree, thou didst make a solemn tryst with the Spirit: "Beneath the banyan bough,On the sacred seat I take this vow:
What is Love?
Love is the scent with the lotus born.It is the silent choirs of petalsSinging the winter’s harmony of uniform beauty.Love is the song of the soul, singing to God.It is the balanced rhythmic dance of planets - sun and moon litIn the skyey hall festooned with fleecy clouds –Around the sovereign Silent Will.It is the thirst of the rose to drink the sunraysAnd blush red with life.‘Tis the promptings of the mother earthTo feed her milk to the tender, thirsty roots,And to nurse all life.It is the urge of the sunTo keep all things alive. Love is the unseen craving of the Mother DivineThat took the protecting father–form,And that feeds helpless mouthsWith milk of mother’s tenderness.It is the babies’ sweetness,Coaxing the rain of parental sympathyTo shower upon them.It is the lover’s unenslaved surrender to the belovedTo serve and solace.It is the elixir of friendship,Reviving broken and bruised souls.It is the martyr’s zeal to shed his bloodFor the well-beloved fatherland.It is the ineffable, silent call of the heart to anotherheart.It is the God-drunk poet’s heartachesFor every creature’s groans. Love is to enjoy the family rose of petal-beings,And thence to move to spacious fields -Passing by portals of social, national, international
Nature’s Nature
Away, ye muses, all away!Away with songs of finch and fay.Away the jaundiced sightThat magnifies the firefly’s lightTo bonfire bright;That sets ablaze at onceMy musing’s dimly burning lamps;That ornaments with rhymesThe penury-stricken looks betimes;That over-clothes the logic – lordWith fancy –swollen words.Away, the partial loveThat ‘boldens Nature to sit aboveHer Maker! This day I fasten eyelid doors,With absence wax my ears,With languorous peace congealMy tongue, my touch, my tears *That I within may poreUpon the things behind, ahead,In the darkness round me spread.I lock Dame Nature outWith all her fickle rout. Somewhere here,In the darkness drear,I myself with cheerMy course will steerIn the pathE’er sought by all:Its magnet callI hear. Not hear, not here,Apollo would his burning chariot steer;Nor Diana dare to peepInto the sacred silence deep. Not here, not here,Not far or nearCan mounts or rebel wavesE’er make me full of fear;Nor evermoreTheir dreadful grandeur to adore. Not here, not hereThe soft capricious wiles of flowers;Nor swarming storm clouds’ sweeping terror,Dishevelling the treesAnd light-haired skies;Nor doomsday’s thunderous roar,Dismantling earth and stars-The cosmic beauties all to mar –Not Nature’s murderous mutiny,Nor man’s exploding destinyCan touch me here. Not here, not here:Through mind’s strong iron bars,Not gods or goblins, men or nature,Without my pass dare enter. I look behind, ahead –On naught but darkness tread.In wrath I strike, and set the dark ablazeWith the immortal spark of thought,By friction-process broughtOf concentrationAnd distraction.The darkness burnsWith a million tongues;And now I spyAll past, all distant things, as nigh. I smile sereneAs I expose to gaze.In wisdom’s brilliant blaze,All charms of the Hidden Home Unseen:The Home of Nature’s birth,The planets’ moulding hearth,The factory whence all forms or fairies start,The bards, colossal minds, and hearts,The gods and all,And all, and all! Away, awayWith all the lightsome lays!Oh, now will I portrayIn humble way,And try to lisp, if only in half truths,Of wordless charms of Thee Unseen,To whom Dame Nature owes her nature and her sheen.
Come To Me, O Christ
O Christ—Thou rarest flower of hearts—Thou didst sail on the storm-tossed lake of prejudiced minds. Its evil-scented, gloomy thought-waves lashed Thy lily-tender soul. They crucified Thee with their evil. Yet Thou didst shed the aroma of goodness and forgiveness, and didst help them to be purified by remorse, so helping them to become attractively sweet-scented with Thine all-loving Flower-Soul.O Thou Great Lover of error-torn brothers—an unseen monument of the mightiest miracle of love was established in each heart when the magic wand of Thy voice uttered: "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."Thou hast healed the cataract of hatred, and now we have grown to see: "Love thine enemies as thyself, for they are thy brothers—though sick and sleeping."Thou hast taught us not to increase their delirious kicks of hatred by battering them with the bludgeons of revenge. Thine undying sympathy hath inspired us to heal and wake our brothers, suffering from the delirium of anger, by the soothing salve of our forgiveness.Thy crucifixion reminds us of the daily crucifixion of our fortitude by trials, of our wisdom by ignorance, of our self-control by the scathing hands of temptation, and of our love by misunderstanding.Thy test on the cross proved the victory of Thy wisdom over ignorance, of Thy soul over flesh, of Thy happiness over pain, and of Thy love over hatred. So are we heartened to bear our crosses bravely and pleasantly. Teach us to pour out sweetness when crucified by harshness, to bear with calmness the assault of worries, and to give understanding unceasingly to those who unjustly hate us.O Shepherd of Souls, wandering hearts are of themselves seeking the one fold of divine devotion. We have heard the ever-calling music of Thine infinite kindness. Our one desire is to be at home with Thee, to receive the Cosmic Father with joyous, open eyes of wisdom, and to know that we are all sons of our own One God.Teach us to conquer the Satan of dividing selfishness, which prevents the gathering of all brother-souls into the one fold of Spirit.Calling to one another by the watchword: "Love him who loves you, and love all who love you not," let us rally beneath the canopy of the universal sense of Christ-Oneness. Amen.Whispers from EternityA Book of Answered Prayers
My Soul is Marching On!
The shining stars are sunk in darkness deep,The weary sun is dead at night,The moon’s soft smile doth fade anon;But still my soul is marching on! The grinding wheel of time hath crushedFull many a life of moon and star,And many a brightly smiling morn;But still my soul is marching on! The flowers bloomed, then hid in gloom,The bounty of the trees did cease;Colossal men have come and gone,But still my soul is marching on! The aeons one by one are flying,My arrows one by one are gone;Dimly, slowly, life is fading,But still my soul is marching on! Darkness, death, and failures vied;To block my path they fiercely tried.My fight with jealous Nature’s strong,But still my soul is marching on!
Make Me Silent
Make me Silent, that I may eloquently converse with Thee.I wandered through forests of incessant searchings, and arrived at the mystery door of Thy presence. On the doors of silence I knocked loudly with my persistent blows of faith, and the doors of space opened. There, on the altar of glorious visions, I beheld Thee, resting.I stood, with restless eyes, waiting for Thee to speak. I heard not Thy creation-making voice. At last the spell of stillness stole upon me, and in whispers taught me the language of angels. With the lisping voice of new-born freedom, I tried to speak, and the lights of Thy temple assumed sudden brilliancy and wrote letters of light.In my little chamber of quietness, I am always resting: I never speak but with the voice of my silence. Through my silence, eloquently converse with me.From: Whispers from EternityA Book of Answered Prayers
One Friend
Many clouds do race to hide Thee –Of friends and wealth and fame –And yet through mist of tears I seeAppear Thy Golden Name.Each time my father, mother, friendsDo loudly claim they did me tend,I wake from sleep to sweetly hearThat Thou alone didst help me here.
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