Dhruvasimha
Beyond the first awareness is the seed,
a source untouched by any craving need,
a spark forever steadfast in its light,
constant in reflection and in fight,
where thinker is but thought, and doer deed.
Sacred text in hand, the lion waits;
teaching is the path through golden gates
that reach to other realms and then
the abyss of light beyond all human ken.
One right question every answer dissipates.
A lion for reflection on the plains
of deep delusion, in the falling rains
looks out on golden grasses and the sky.
The golden eyes outlooking wait to die.
When self is overcome, no self remains;
thoughts beyond all craving know no pain.
