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Roba - Please come home: poetry to open the heart, nourish the soul and transform the mind

Here you can read online Roba - Please come home: poetry to open the heart, nourish the soul and transform the mind full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. City: Minnesota, year: 2013;2015, publisher: North Star Press of St. Cloud, genre: Religion. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:

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Please come home: poetry to open the heart, nourish the soul and transform the mind: summary, description and annotation

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In the depth of Guthemas words, one indeed finds oneself coming home, to a place of solace, a place of peace, and a place of constant bliss. There is no better alchemy to what ails all of us in this modern world, then to return to the whispers of The Beloved found in Guthema Robas divine poetry. Paul Goldman, author of Journey into Oneness, Wild Joy: Ruminations and the spoken word CD Wild Joy: The Ecstatic Poetry of Paul Goldman

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Please come home poetry to open the heart nourish the soul and transform the mind - image 1 Please come home Poetry to open the heart, nourish the soul and transform the mind Guthema Roba Please come home poetry to open the heart nourish the soul and transform the mind - image 2 North Star Press of St. Cloud, Inc. St. Cloud, Minnesota Copyright 2013 Guthema Roba All rights reserved. Print ISBN: 978-0-87839-678-8 eBook ISBN: 978-087839-832-4 First edition: June 1, 2013 Published by North Star Press of St. P.O. P.O.

Box 451 St. Cloud, MN 56302 www.northstarpress.com To my precious wife and companion, Aster Tilahun (Astroid), and my daughter Homa. You have been the garden of kindness and love. I have grown and refined so much ever since you entered my life. I am very grateful. To my beloved friends Ursa Karp (Sattva), Donna Ronning, Meski Mebatsion, Gera Getachew, Helena Tadesse, Paul Goldman, Aseffa Ayele, Mardy Bryant, Yonas Mbatsion, Louis Alemayehu, Deva Michele MCcune, Anne Ekeberg, Biniam Egu Bedasso, Rose Marie Raccioppi, Charen Surdhar, Ramana Spencer, Berhanemeskel Dejene, Eyasu Tarekegn, Leslie Read, Daniel Amare, Oriya Rohr, Maggie Shea, Renee Reed, Princess Lucy, Guye Jima, Maureen Millea Smith, Barbara Jean, Anugraha Hamblin, Jana Dular, Allison Dorhman, Yigebashal Kass, Haminia Haar, Hannah Jones, Christian Korn, Demitu Argo, Diane Moe, Mahder Koru, Michael McConnell, Emebet Bekele, Janet Tarkow, Lynn Tarkow, Carolyn Kaehr, Mary McMahon, Father Bill Whittier, Hanspeter Hopperger, staff of the Golden Valley library, friends of the Golden Valley library and many more whose names I have not mentioned hereyour support and love continue to touch me deeply.

Thank you for choosing to be beautiful. Table of Contents Introduction The moment you teach a child the name of a bird, that child will never see that bird. Jiddu Krishnamurti W e walk down the street or turn on our TV and see a thousand faces full of suppressed tensions and worries. In the marketplace, at the malls, at work places and schools, there is fear, insecurity and resentment. In Africa, the Middle East, Asia and elsewhere there are cycles of dictatorial regimes, corruption, wars, greed and drug trafficking. Inside each household, there are dysfunctional relationships, domestic violence, addictions, homicides and depression.

An adults mind does not like to be in the Now. It chooses to be either in the past or the future. Were always waiting for something special to happen. We believe we have to acquire something in order to be happy. For instance, we have to get a job or a partner to be happy. While waiting for something to happen, we miss the flow of life because life happens only in this moment.

Early in the mornings, freeways are jammed with people who drive to work they dont enjoy any more. In many cultures, there is so much fear of aging, death and dying. This is because there is a very strong attachment with the physical world or the form and most humans think they are their body. The world is in a dream state of consciousness and humans have forgotten who they are and where they come from. There is a great disconnection. In other words, theyve walked away from what really matters most and by doing so they are not available to life.

Theyve torn themselves from nature. They try to solve every problem with the mind that has created it. If we need to describe what the mind is, it simply means the accumulation of stories we have been gathering ever since we were born. Depending on how we were raised, most of us have crammed so many stories while others might have collected less. The more stories you collect, the more conditioned you become. This is what is commonly known as education.

Here, we can call it domestication. If you meet a ten-year-old child and ask how he is doing, he will tell you that he is bored. If you want to know why, he would say, life sucks. Thats it! Life sucks. Imagine, he is only ten years old and life has become meaningless for him already. I am in my mid-forties now and I am still madly in love with life.

I get up in the mornings and find myself genuinely intoxicated by the beauty of life. And then so much space opens up, through which poetry flows like milk and honey. I still experience challenges, but I no longer see a challenge as an enemy. I see them as friends who emerge to wake me up, to sharpen and refine me so that I can move through life easily. When you were born, you were a pure diamond, pure space. As you grow up and turn into a teen and then into an adult, the diamond becomes completely covered with dust and you no longer shine and you forget who you are.

At this point, you need a friend who can remind you, a friend who can help you polish the diamond. Sometimes poetry can be that friend. For me poetry is not a hobby. It is an everyday dance of existence, a walk towards your heart. It is a bridge connecting the lover with the beloved or the ocean with the one whos thirsty. Each poem in this book is a daily celebration, a reminder of your own beauty.

They are invitations for you to wake up from the state of deep sleep and know who you are. Dont try to understand them nor bring any stories or images into them. They will become static and wont flow through you. Feel them with all your body and be fully open. Let the act of deep listening take over. They are short but they penetrate deeper and evoke a hidden source of joy inside you.

They need to be read over and over again until every single atom inside of you wakes up and heals. At the end of the day, you will realize that love is not anywhere out there. Peace is not anywhere out there. Kindness and understanding are not anywhere out there. All of these qualities are deep within you and not separate from who you are. It is home and you are inside it.

Please come home. Blessings, Guthema Roba It Is Time for You I tell you the splendor you are Can deeply touch someone today And it is time for you to go out in the Street and shine. If youve already noticed the world Acting absurdly and insanely, Knocking into each other in their dreams, It is because some kind of hunger or thirst Is hitting hard. And you are the nourishment, my friend, the bread for deep longing like this one. You are the wine and fresh milk and It is time for you to go out in the Street and sing. * * * This Brief Moment Oh beloved one! The beauty of your hearts song the light your eyes emit smashes thousand eggs open.

Just this brief moment in the sun this brief moment is an eternity, it is like sitting under the sky that drips with honey and milk. * * * Your Happiness Your happiness, my friend, is not out there; not in anyones hand. It is in the depth of the music that comes looking for you even when youve stopped listening. Ego looks outside and sees mistakes everywhere and blames you for everything that has gone wrong. Love moves through every single breath you take and drops all the charges against you. that is the beauty we love to sing. that is the beauty we love to sing.

Look at a mountain. Beneath her solid mask, there lies a profound tenderness we cannot reach with thought. Your eyes are fresh and your lips are full of sweetness and sublime words surge through your veins. In the middle of the night You hear a cow going into a deep labor. You drop everything and help with the delivery The calf falters a little bit, until her legs could find the ground. She opens her eyes, then parts her mouth and would say: I am a language woven from the sighs of labor within labor.

I am the scent of love the lovers desire to smell. Thought arises and says: I have an accent. Can everyone understand me? The heart replies: You speak Gods accent. If they cannot understand you, No worries. You can understand them. * * * Sweet Bewilderment You are the sweet bewilderment, sealed in an envelope and delivered to every door by a letter carrier. * * * Sweet Bewilderment You are the sweet bewilderment, sealed in an envelope and delivered to every door by a letter carrier.

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