3. March of the Yogi

Ah there! My friend behold
Marches the yogi bright
Blazing like the sun, his countenance
Radiating the Divine light.

He has no place in mind,
The whole earth his territory,
He marches towards truth
Feasting on a soulful victory.

His mind now, completely a tool,
His soul now, the only thirst left
The Blissful Eternal,
Oh! Will he always be bereft!

He looks at everything now,
Smiles to himself surmising
"Ah, of my Father's creation
Mine is Everything but nothing."

Marching ahead to the dawn of Bliss
On the road to Complete Submission,
Not a drop of tear-his master's command
On the steadfast ascent, to the ultimate fusion.