GIL YOUNGER

Gil Younger’s an interesting guy
These limericks will let you know why:

His humor is sly
His aim always high —

And his heart is as huge as the sky

As a maverick he’s proud to be known —
He’s carved out a path that’s his own

Ask his advice —
He’ll say (at least twice):

Be sure that you answer the phone!

His generosity — how it has shown
With his help we’ve expanded and grown

And we hear once again
From this man among men:

Be sure that you answer the phone!

His jokes may elicit a groan
Toward earthiness clearly he’s prone

But the key to success
Is hardly a guess:

Be sure that you answer the phone!

When leaving your desk, you’d do well
To forward that phone to your cell

When people beseech you
They always will reach you —

Do this and you’ll surely excel

And don’t get Gil started on fonts
He’ll tell you the thing that he wants

The fonts that Gil prizes
Are easy on eyeses —

No serifs — that’s what he flaunts

So please — use no fonts with a serif
Or Gil will start charging a tariff

No letters with hooky things
Crooky or booky things —

Gil’s the typography sheriff

Geneva, Verdana, Arial —
These are the fonts to install

But Georgia and Times
Are capital crimes —

Please do not use them at all

Food’s tastiest, Gil says, when it’s hot —
Not nearly as tasty when not

So pre-heat each plate
And your food will taste great —

You’ll enjoy all the flavor it’s got

Where a hand can be lent, he will lend it
If a gift will help out, he will send it

His supreme generosity
Keeps gaining velocity —

Dear Gil – you’re profoundly commended

If you want to get down to his essence
Down to his very quintessence

You come to a space
Of purity, grace —

The place that he calls caring presence

Caring presence — the gift you can share
Caring presence — just be . . . and it’s there

Giving this gift
Will nourish, uplift

And embrace everything, everywhere

He’s very successful, Gil Younger
But being awake is his hunger

His small self he’s tendered —
To Maharishi surrendered —

The result is truly a wonder

The mind, he will say, is your circus
Only illusion can hurt us

The ego defending —
A circus unending . . .

But transcending — that will convert us

The Yoga Vasistha — it’s his
It’s his breath and his blood — it’s his biz

This seeker of truth
This Younger of youth —

Enlightened — that’s what he is

He’s established in Being, the Transcendent
His star’s clearly on the ascendant —

We love you, dear Gil
And always we will —

Your light is truly resplendent

He’s way beyond run of the mill —
He’s a class of his own, if you will

On water, a skier
In Being, a Seer

All praise to that great Younger, Gil!

September 3, 2011