DOCTOR CHRIS

His patients always wonder what he eats.

Rice and dal? Of course. But any sweets?

He gave up chocolate — this much now we know

A role has still been played by sugar, though.

He hides his cookies in some secret nook,

Some place where children never think to look.

Arriving home, and barely finished kissing

Wife and kids, he senses something’s missing.

“What happens here,” he wonders with concern,

“Between the time I leave and I return?”

He glances toward his secret hiding place.

Secret? A look of doubt now clouds his face.

All eyes are on him now. He quickly strides

To where his private box of cookies hides.

He takes the cookies out. “There should be more,”

He thinks. “It looks like fewer than before.”

He counts them. Then he totals. . . . tallies. . . . sums.

And then the long-awaited question comes:

“Who’s been eating cookies?” queries he.

All hands shoot up — the children jump with glee.

“We have!” they sing, such joy upon their faces —

They always find his secret hiding places.

And once again his children prove what’s true:

They do not as you say but as you do.

Meet to give — this principle we know,

And if to Doctor Chris’s house you go

You’ll quickly be admitted, and with favor,

If you bring him something sweet in flavor.

He only has to walk into the room —

Whatever doubt you felt, whatever gloom,

Begins to lift. He smiles, happy seeing

You. And now you find that simply being

In the room with him has made you lighter.

He smiles again. Your body feels brighter.

You put your situation in his hands;

You talk to him and sense he understands,

Not by what he says but what he is.

And then he turns and takes your hand in his.

He asks to take your pulse. His eyelids close.

Awareness settles. Deep within he goes,

Pure self-referral, consciousness aware

Of consciousness alone, the level where

Nature’s own intelligence, at rest

Within itself and unexpressed,

Gives rise to matter, guiding change all through

The body of the cosmos, and yours too —

Where any lack of balance is detected,

The cure is seen, imbalance is corrected.

His eyes come open and he smiles again.

The problem’s simple, he explains, and then

He gives you several things that you can do.

The only problem now is just that you

Barely remember what you came there for.

You feel fantastic. Then you’re out the door.

The day is brilliant. Life is full. And this

Is what so many gain from Doctor Chris.

His is not a knowledge gained from books.

He lives his knowledge, gives it through his looks,

His every word and action, thought and feeling —

His very air promotes our health and healing

And how does Doctor Chris spend leisure hours?

Playing his viola, growing flowers.

Viola? When he made the great decision

Finally to unplug the television,

Something blissful had to fill the void.

Music was an art he’d long enjoyed:

He’d played piano as a boy — but now,

Nearly an adult, he knew somehow

He wanted something new. What would it be?

Voila! Viola! Now, bowing happily,

A vision formed itself from deep within:

Hana on cello . . . Jane on violin . . .

Only one more violin required

To form — a string quartet! And, thus inspired,

He looked around and wondered, who should play it?

His eyes alight on Naren. . . . Dare he say it?

Such wondrous luck, to have another child!

Doctor Chris, the plan now formed, just smiled —

He finds it almost too good to be true.

“Naren,” he whispers, “I have a plan for you.”

Children he has always loved. They teach

Him what he wants to learn and know. And each

Feels drawn to him in turn. Children shy

Of others come to him, attracted by

A force one cannot touch but always feels —

The force of bliss, of life — the force that heals

And makes whole, the source of all creation.

In Chris this force has reached its consummation:

The Self possessed of total knowledge of

Itself. Some might call this power love,

And some might call it wisdom — but we know

Its real nature, and we hope to grow

To mirror it so fully as this man

Whose day we honor. And we know we can,

Especially if he continues guiding

Us with so much skill and grace, providing

Layers ever deeper, ever more

Profound, of this most perfect knowledge for

The people of the world — as restored

In its completeness by Maharishi. Record

His name in history with the greatest men

And women who have served Maharishi, then

And now, to spread this knowledge worldwide,

Creating perfect health from deep inside,

And long, long life, free of suffering

And filled with happiness — it’s this he’ll bring.

He keeps a garden in his yard — he raises

Roses, perfect flowers. Each one praises

Its creator. And such varieties!

Double Delights and Sweet Surrenders please

The very air. He enjoys bestowing

Perfections on his friends. We’re happy knowing

We’re his roses too. His round’s complete

When he lays these roses — brilliant, sweet —
At our perfect master’s lotus feet.

Two qualities imbue our Doctor Chris:

They are, of course, pure knowledge and pure bliss.

August 26, 1990