Our Soul is in God

Our soul is in God and God is in us.

The blessed, by Master’s Grace, know thus.

Immortal Song, the Word, so pure,

Kills the ego, and our ills doth cure.

Nanak! The pernicious disease of ego,

I find it wherever I go.

When anyone He wished to save,

To him His Word He ever gave.

As coin tester doth coins test,

Cuts the false and stores the rest,

So the Lord selection makes

And the pure to Home He takes.

Diseased are water, fire and air;

Diseased is earth that looks so fair.

Diseased are father, sister, mother,

Diseased is body, diseased is brother.

Diseased are creator and destroyer;

Diseased are feeder and supplier.

Of their disease only those were cured

Who heard the Word, in Love endured.

Diseased are all the seas and oceans;

Diseased is sun with all its motions.

Healthy only are His lovers;

On them His grace He always showers.

Diseased is philosophy with all its schools;

Diseased are the ascetics and their rules.

In vain the books and Vedas endeavor.

They find not the Lord, though they be clever.

Not by Pilgrimage is the malady cured,

Nor by learning is health secured.

Dainty dishes bring disease,

And simple food gives no ease.

Worship of God and Mammon vile

Makes us slaves of Maya’s guile.

Who ignores the Word and goes astray,

Ends in fury and dismay.

Master’s darlings love the Sound,

Are sanctified and Homeward bound.

O Nanak! Happy is the chosen son

On whom doth glance the Loving One.

(Guru Nanak)