A Rose-Petal A Day at Thy Blessed Feet

Daily I'll scatter rose-petals before
Thy blessed Feet;
Each petal just a thought. I have no more
To render Thee in homage. It is mete
That it should be like this, for all's already Thine,
There's nothing more is mine.

And as these petals one by one do drop,
Whose perfume-sweetness lasts but for a day,
I will not stop
Asking myself repeatedly this way:
"Who thinks that he now acts?" and "Who am I?"
And so like this I'll try
To plumb the depths of Being, diving deep
Beyond the realms of thought to waking-sleep,
Where naught is and yet All.
For this the lesson, sitting in Thy Hall,
That I have learnt. And yet above
This seeming dry philosophy I find
A deeper lesson in The boundless Love
That spreads beyond all measured realms of mind.

My giving is a gain,
It will not be in vain.
For every thought I one by one discard
Will grow another feather in the wings
That carry me to Freedom. Tho' 'tis hard
What I would not accomplish, 'tis of things
That must be done, it seems, in spite of me;
My will I have surrendered unto Thee.

All that is left to me is just to pray
That many years will be added to the term
That Thou wilt spend below.
For Thou in truth art my sole staff and stay,
Holding to which my purpose is more firm,
And when Thou goest I would also go.
Bound ever to Thy Feet how can I fail?
O Ramana, my Guru, hail, all hail!

~ Sadhu Arunachala (Major A. W. Chadwick)