Peace of Christmas
suffuses the
bhajan hall
settling like snowfall
over the manger in Bethlehem

Its no wonder
on my way to kirtan
a white car dashed in front of me
embossed over its rear view window
was the Om glittering forth
reminiscent of snow crystals
softly descending from
the lofty Himalayas

Certainly this was turning out
to be quite a
magical evening
there was a hint of Sai in the atmosphere
although the devotees were sparse
we sang our hearts out
Yuletide hymns and Hare Krishna

Carolers on the door steps of God

Sai Krishna
what magic have you wrought
the sideshows and acrobatics
of the world no longer entice
robotically I go through the motions
of daily living
my mind totally absorbed in You

Captivating Lord
You have performed a sleight of heart
and I am hopelessly smitten
fatally attracted I stalk Your
charming footsteps
planning my sweet ambush

Alluring  Giridhari
the mid-night air is
dulcet
and heady aroma of
jasmine enchants the Soul
on the soft earth
I have drawn a sacred white circle
a magical mandala
under a pyramid of stars
I wait

My lips adore the sacred feet of Hari
i shower rose petals and sweet blossoms
over the path that leads to
His door

His lovers are as numerous as
the sands of the beach
still He loves them all
equally

I anoint
His feet with my tears
and nectar from my heart
flows unceasing

The holy feet of the Lord
promises to
purify my
negative qualities
and fills the chalice
of my Spirit with
new wine

Only the blessed feet
of my Beloved can carry
me safely, unscathed across the
churning, turbulent ocean

Whither we can rest free
and unencumbered
on the shores
of His everlasting embrace

Dream Self
You
have robbed me
of sleep
awake I count
the quickening seconds…
leaping like white buffaloes
touching the clouds

through the partially
drawn chiffon curtains
Your azure face
floats time lapsed
across the
night sky
exquisite arias
from Your kokopelli flute
caress my ears


Krishna divine charioteer
Your sweet chariot
swings low
the breath grows faint
and my pulse is
absent
I am no more.....


dream self

Within the lotus pink petals
of my tear soaked *****
He has hidden His splendor

Under a raincloud the color
of His peacock skin

camouflaged

He waits

Darling Giridhari
I have driven the tenacious, evil
bats of hatred, envy, anger and
greed from the tall steel towers, belfry
of my mind

Nectarine incense of prayer
and contemplation on You
burns day and night on the altar
of my penitent heart

Ceaselessly my breath does not
hesitate to chant Your divine name

From these eyes the Yamuna river
pours and floods its banks
while I wait for You to
dance with me

Every season is an endless Winter
without your warm Spring embrace
snow drifts pursue and threaten to bury
the tender shoots of love

Hurry Hari Krishna
pull this poison cupid's arrow
from Your devotee's
smitten heart

Gopi star maidens roam
across an ever widening
void
searching for their darling Giridhari

"Krishna why have You abandoned us?"

"Your foot prints have gone cold and the music
of Your ankle bells are deathly silent"

"The universe is so colossal, baffling,
unfathomable, bewildering and
incomprehensible"

"Where are You?"

"We beg only for Your celestial embrace"

The Lord opens His ginormous, glittering,
galactic blue mouth and laughs
misty worlds evaporate and reappear

Elysian fields, sweet perfumed scents
of Paradise
sweep across our Souls
Beloved Krishna with the cashmere eyes
that old snake charmer
plays His golden flute
Radha seated eternally by His side

The empty jhoola swings

Gunga peas calypso
Madly
in my cooking ***
gradually I pour canned coconut milk
into the swirling flavors
of cilantro, garlic and onions


Staring into the rich brown
stew
I can see my Mother grating
coconut meat and hand squeezing
the milk like teats from a cow
(Too much work for me)
creating a traditional coconut rice and peas
dish


She was raised on a farm in St. Elizabeth,
Jamaica
early hours, rugged, hard labor were natural
for the family which included nine siblings
Pauline was a kind big hearted Soul
with ample soft *****
perfect for children
to lay their heads upon
and skin that always seemed
to smell of curry


Burnt sienna Indian complexion
wavy black river hair
and colorful patois accent
painted a portrait
cavorting over the dandy, rolling
goat hooved hills of
Jamaican village peasantry


The Moravian church of England formed
beliefs woven inextricably through
the fabric of her simplistic
innocent existence
our Mom instilled a love of
God in us that was pure and hearty

"Sonya stop your daydreaming"
my Mother's clarion voice interrupts
my avid reverie

"Bumba!" I cry aloud
"I haven't had bammy in eons"

Quickly my fingers Google
Another tasty native recipe

chock full of memories
and cassava root