The Story Of Swami Rama - Holybook

The Story Of Swami Rama
unsteady clouds of seeming things and cry like children
on finding them gone. How amusing! O! I cannot
suppress a laugh.
Others again expend all their time in minutely
observing and faithfully noting down the smallest
details of the transitory changes in clouds (phenomena).
O me! What are these creatures? There is a flood of
glory around them and yet they care not to slake their
raging thirst for light. These are what they call scientists
and philosophers. Being too busy in splitting hairs they
take no notice of the glorious head of the Beloved to
which the hair belongs. O! I cannot suppress a laugh.
Happy he, whose vision no clouds of names and forms
could obstruct, who could always trace the attracting
light to its true source, the Atman, and whose affections
reach the goal (God) not being lost in the way like
streams dried up before reaching the sea. The pleasing
relations must vanish. They are only postmen. Miss not
the Lord's love-letter they have brought for you. The
match-stick must soon burn off, but blessed is he who
has lighted his lamp permanently therewith. The steam
and food must simply erelong be consumed, but
fortunate is the boat which before the fatal loss reaches
the Home—the Harbour. He lives who could make of
every object whatever a stepping stone to God, or rather
a mirror to see God. The world with all its stars,
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