Oh God Please

help us
no more war!
stave the 
gushing blood of our wounds

bile, hatred, fear, greed, revenge




Swords drawn, guns cocked

We line up on the side of 
Light or Darkness





Beloved, how can I ask for the end of war
when there is a dark battle raging in my own heart?




The Bhagavad Gita says the real war is within

seething in our hearts and minds
We must first slay the enemies inside ourselves




Yes! This abysmal war has gone on long enough

we've wrestled with countless angels and demons
over the course of many lives, many battlefields


Every pink and golden glorious sunrise
Mercy dawns
a chance to embrace the moment
with all our heart and soul


We breathe in
innocence
a new day
fresh beginning

Beloved
I am so anguished and ashamed

I have yet to surrender my
trousseau of sense enjoyments,
possessions and attachments

Vasanas, earthly passions
run deep like serpents
beneath my skin
blue green veins of pride,
anger, lust, fear
feed and nourish them

Blissful, chaste companion
when I gaze into pure, limpid
pools of your eyes and
drop my heart into those
starlit wishing wells

108 times

Only one prayer
remains on my bucket list

I think we are afraid of the vastness
we fear the vastness
the wild untamed beauty of our true nature

The other day at twilight,
I was traveling with my niece, Carina
down St. John's Heritage Highway
the view was absolutely breathtaking
no houses, no development, no people
just vast stretches of old Florida

As we paused to look at the primeval vista
my niece said she found it unnerving - the vastness

I told her I loved it because it reminded me of meditation
losing awareness of our limited, ordinary self
we enter an inexplicable vastness, primordial void
people-less, formless, infinite

We feel eternal truth rushing through our veins
We are part of a larger picture
greater than anything we can imagine

In the starry arms of the blossoming Universe
we rest safe, secure and loved forever

I attended an award ceremony for my
eldest grandson, Alexander Sathya
he had been struggling with math
so it was quite thrilling to know he
was going to receive an award
for "most improved" in his class.


His younger brother, Sean Sai,
has been a straight A student
and we regularly attended
award functions for him.
To our great surprise and happiness,
Alex also achieved the Honor Roll!

After the tribute, Alex introduced
his mother and I to some
of his 6th grade classmates.
As I smiled and chatted with
these innocent souls embarking
on their journey through life,
I couldn't help noticing, that imprinted
on their darling faces and inscribed
in their hearts, was the same basic
question, every human being consciously or
unconsciously is continuously asking:

"Who am I?"
"What is my purpose?"
"Where am I going?"

I pray we all realize who we are
make the noble grade and fulfill
the highest:

God's Divine Honor Roll

A honey bee wished me

Happy Mother's Day

buzzing close to the white lotus gardenia

pinned in my hair

We had all gathered in the

Buddhist Poornachandra listening

to the Thai Monk give an elevating discourse

Monk Tee discussed clinging

as a source of our suffering

And the Buddha did say

"Desire is the cause of all suffering"

He distinguished between the

different types of craving

eloquently revealing a

higher wish which was

the desire to do and spread

goodness and love

I thought about how Bhaktas

cling to Mother God the source

of all nectar and life

"Happy Mother's Day Sai Maa"

I whispered, "You are everything to us"

The Monk's feet
make almost no sound
in the early morning mist
I listen for music of ankle bells
Buddha, Krishna, Jesus
and all those who traverse
the sacred path of God

Together we walk....
One Golden Buddha
blessing trees, horses
and the hawk screeching
over tall Florida pines

Breathing in sun and moon
the Universe rushes though
our veins
and smiles so gloriously
on compassionate faces
rising beyond pain, desires,
struggles,
suffering, sorrows
of the temporal world

A kind smile planted
in weathered furrows
of your heart

coax a bit of sweetness
arouse the natural
tenderness

pink warmth
buried
beneath frozen vineyards
and harried faces of men

on this blithe and bonny
first Spring day
the blessed, benevolent
countenance
of  St. Francis
graces our garden

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