Now I have to go up to the highest

The sister of one of our oldest disciples had an American Guru. She was his dearest disciple. Then everything went wrong, and she left his path. She did two or three paintings of me. They are excellent, excellent!

Once I went to Woodstock with this disciple and his sister. Sammy and Eric were with us. We were in a small restaurant. Beside the door was a small pool. We sat down, and somehow they came to learn that the sister’s Guru was there. They all stood up and said, “Come, come.” Sammy said to me, “We shall introduce you to him.”

I said, “No, no, no. I am not a Guru.” At that time I did not know that this man was the Guru of my disciple’s sister.

Sammy introduced me, and we shook hands. Alas, alas, alas! So many forces attacked me very nicely! Sammy, Eric and somebody else shook hands with him, and nothing happened to them, nothing! I was so uselessly receptive. I said to myself, “How could this happen?”

We did not have any paper with us at all. I took the napkin and we borrowed a lead pencil — I was famous for working with lead pencils at the Ashram! There I wrote two most sublime poems. They are both called “The Supreme.”¹ I say something, my Supreme says, “No,” and then finally He agrees. That Guru brought me down, so I said to myself, “Now I have to go up to the Highest.” I went to the Highest, and in these poems I am speaking to the Supreme. We are having face-to-face talks. Those are not my imagination-poems. They are my direct, face-to-face conversations with my Lord Supreme.