A poem written after circumambulating the sacred mountain Arunachala in Tiruvannamalai, South India.


Like a hidden lamp a living soul
burns inextinguishable within
the heart of the mountain, Arunachala.

Mainstay of the world, mountain of bliss,
the hill of light, the hill of dawn,
the red hill rising at the birth of time
older than the Himalayas & fair Atlantis.

enchanted remnant
of a forgotten continent,
eclipsed in the sea.

The mountain sings of sages
within her secret caves,
shining like suns and fire
& Yogic lore of the mythic age
when all beings dwelt in bliss.

Arunachala, your teaching runs
wild like a tiger,
no guru, no scripture,
no temple can contain you.

Remote in the power of stillness,
you gleam amongst insects,
birds, beasts & men.

Serene witness of the ephemeral flow,
with you all things seem eternal.

Arunachala sing on high
for all who seek truth
within your circle.

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