Luther Burbank

—By Swami Yogananda

Beatific Burbank

The great reformer Luther thou art

Of living plants and flowers

(Of all moods ...the tender ones,

The stubborn growing ones,

Or the cactus rude).

Thy peaceful ways

The cruel cactus took

And its armored thorns forsook

And learned to sacrifice its meat

For all to eat.

Eight score years

The hard-shelled stubborn walnut tree

Took to fully grow—

Thy care did soften its shell

And taught it seven score years to throw.

The flower-smile on thy face

Tells thou art nurtured

On Nature's green breast

Bedecked with petals' lace.

Soul met soul so free

And I saw thee...

A God-grown mental lotus-flower

Just opening tender

Not only to cast

The beauty rays of thy plant knowledge

And its supreme ways to your fellow man,

But also gently turning

To the Mighty Invisible Sun

That lights little plants,

Distant stars, the bursting bubble,

Thee and me and man.

Thou didst not ask, "Who thou art?"

But understood my speaking heart,

Our souls touched —and we saw

We had but one goal, one task, one law,

...By knowledge

To break the walls of dogma dark.

On the ocean's surface is diversity

Beneath —lies all the waves in One Unity.

We both dived deep—

Thou thru living waves of plants

And I thru waves of human minds.

We found we met beneath

(As all deep-divers do

...On a vast expanse of Unity)

In this great Truth-Sea.

Thou dost dread ...ism and dogmas.

So do I

... All man-made false enigmas.

We outcasts know

But one bright Truth-made Path of Light.

God didst make thee and all His image,

Certes thou hast broken the dogmas of age

By creating new fruits, new plants,

And shown the world in wonder

The Creator's child

Too a creator.

We go not in

That's why we say

"He's far away, Oh far away".

He dost not hide from us

But we from Him.

Let's rush

—Within let's go.

Lo! He's there ...always.

Oh Santa Rosa

Blest thou art

To have blown the perfume

Of thy one great flower

For distant people of the earth

To enjoy its shower of scent so sweet.

If Nature makes some imperfect plant,

Burbank by his magic wand

Its invading germs disbands

Or creates new kinds with new coats,

Quickened in age and color—

There's a suggestion for you, dear world,

That his life imparts—

If weak, afflicted, or error-fixed thou art

—Thou canst

(If thy reason starts in the direction right

To become all free)

Be what thy soul wishes and works to be.

Santa Rosa,

Thy flower

The ages shall not fade,

In the soil of memories ...ever-fresh

It shall live endless decades.


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