The Hukam of My Command

golden temple 1

The Hukam of My Command

The pagan’s oblations are pointless,
They worship nature as their deity,
They bow to the wind, air, water and fire,
And call to the ethers,
They conclude that by assuaging the devas
Mother Nature will be kind to them,
But she has her own agenda
And always has,
And is just as likely to devour them,
As to dazzle them with her mercurial beauty,

They flaunt their black robes at black masses,
They cherish sorcery and the occult
And chant incantations to Baal,
They treat the God of Jacob as a concept to be joked about,
They read horoscopes to determine their future
In the stars,
But all of these avenues
Eventually end in misfortune,
And any blessing they perceive to have garnered from their actions
Is fruitless and transitory,

Calling themselves witches and warlocks,
They hate religion and proselytize
Against it,
They deny and defy the progenitor of love,
But they are fakes,
Granting forecasts and wishes for a fee,
Their errors deceive the world
And they deceive themselves in teaching
Their own brand of synthetic freedom to the world,
Mostly they dwell in contradiction
While imagining themselves soothsayers or pioneers,
Rejecting compassion
They focus on varying degrees of emptiness,
And emptiness becomes their only friend,

Hey Romeo!

Who made you judge, jury and executioner?
If you loved them as I love them
Then maybe they would desire my mercy by now,
Instead of having to be deceived again and again
By the pitfalls of sanskaric renegotiation,

When the nectar flows,
The buzzing bee enters the mind,
Then the hurricane of utmost bliss
Cannot be constrained by space and time,

Only with my help and my offer of salvation
Can one perfect the utmost bliss, the absolute,
Mind in its initial and primordial state,

Don’t tarnish it with simplistic judgments,

Instead, convince them that the Master’s foot
Is what crushes mundane existence,
And to obey the Hukam of my command,
And to walk in the ways of my will.

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