My most Precious teacher

Giselle de Saint Phalle

Words do not suffice to describe the deep, heart wrenching sorrow I feel having lost my precious teacher. Much as he often said they did not suffice to describe spiritual accomplishments which he tirelessly tried to transmit to us.
As I followed his coffin out of the cemetery the tears fell from face on to the rose I carried between my hands supplicating to him in this physical form for the last time. I was reminded of one of the first teaching I received from him on the samatabhadra wishing prayers. He explained as he gracefully held up a rose in his hand the inconceivable nature of reality. One dew drop, on one rose petal containing the entire universe and an infinity of Buddhas.
We in this world have lost a great mahasiddha. A true living example of a bodhisattva. Compassionately courageous, spontaneously gleeful, wise beyond any of our limited understanding with unwavering integrity.
I will always cherish the kindness he showed me, the laughter we shared and his guidance in every moment.
His smile was like the sun and as the Buddhist sutras say, it never discriminated where it shone but reflected on every surface of water equally. I feel as though the sun has set and left this world is a vast darkness.
I pray that he will return to us swiftly and the sun may rise once more to guide us, lost beings on the path to enlightenment once again.
Pal Pal Dil Ke Paas Tum Rahatee Ho
(You dwell forever in my heart)