The only thing worse than a world without light,
Is a soul with no vision though gifted with sight.
For the eyes are but windows, mere mirrors of clay,
Yet the heart holds the lantern to guide you the Way.
O blind to the Truth though your pupils are wide,
You wander in deserts while rivers abide.
Better be blind with the Third Eye awake,
Than drink from the mirage that the shadows create.
From Ik Onkar flows the nectar divine,
It’s mercy, it’s grace, it’s the Naam’s sweetest wine.
When this rain falls down on the field of your soul,
The barren blooms blossom, the broken are whole.
So awaken, O sleeper, let darkness now part,
Let Waheguru’s arrows pierce straight to your heart.
For vision’s not born from the eyes in your face,
But the boundless expanse of the Infinite’s grace.
