Poem – Between The Poles Of The Conscious – Kabir

BETWEEN the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has the mind made a swing: Thereon hang all beings and all worlds, and that swing never ceases its sway. 

Millions of beings are there: the sun and the moon in their courses are there: 

Millions of ages pass, and the swing goes on. 

All swing! the sky and the earth and the air and the water; and the Lord Himself taking form: 

And the sight of this has made Kabîr a servant.

Poem – Abode Of The Beloved – Kabir

Oh Companion That Abode Is Unmatched, 

Where My Complete Beloved Is. 
In that Place There Is No Happiness or Unhappiness, 

No Truth or Untruth 

Neither Sin Nor Virtue. 

There Is No Day or Night, No Moon or Sun, 

There Is Radiance Without Light. 
There Is No Knowledge or Meditation 

No Repetition of Mantra or Austerities, 

Neither Speech Coming From Vedas or Books. 

Doing, Not-Doing, Holding, Leaving 

All These Are All Lost Too In This Place. 
No Home, No Homeless, Neither Outside or Inside, 

Micro and Macrocosm Are Non-Existent. 

Five Elemental Constituents and the Trinity Are Both Not There 

Witnessing Un-struck Shabad Sound is Also Not There.
No Root or Flower, Neither Branch or Seed, 

Without a Tree Fruits are Adorning, 

Primordial Om Sound, Breath-Synchronized Soham, 

This and That – All Are Absent, The Breath Too Unknown 
Where the Beloved Is There is Utterly Nothing 

Says Kabir I Have Come To Realize. 

Whoever Sees My Indicative Sign 

Will Accomplish the Goal of Liberation.