In the Palm of Thy Hand
—after “Polestar of My Life”
Before Thou didst become my polestar,
I was diverted by the one who boasts
Deep fish and salt-crusted waves.
The one who puffs our pride that all rivers
Rush to embrace his power.
O! I stood dumbfounded at how big his waters were—
Without an inkling of Thy infinite vastness,
I could never have guessed
That he is much less than a raindrop
In the palm of Thy hand.
Sri Ram Prasad Has Testified
—after “Will That Day Come to Me, Mother?”
Divine Mother,
Will I see Thee in this lifetime?
Will the darkness be peeled away
From my eyes allowing
Tears of joy to flow
Down to Thy feet?
Divine Mother,
Will the flowers of my devotion
Bloom with love and wisdom
To understand the Veda’s promise
That Thou dost exist everywhere?
Will I feel in my soul what Sri Ram Prasad meant
When he said, “Divine Mother everywhere stays”?
Will my blind eyes finally see Thee everywhere?
From the Deepest Well of My Soul
—after “I Give You My Soul Call”
Divine Mother,
Come to me from the blue vault
Of the sky.
Come to me from the mountains.
Come to Thy child in the valley.
I am calling, calling Thee,
Mother, come to me, come to me.
In the deepest well of my soul,
Thou art hidden.
Come out, O Mother, come out!
I am calling Thee from the deepest well
Of my soul.
With Thy Song in My Soul
—after “When Thy Song Flows Through Me”
Duality rules, but Thy song is stronger
Than the death-dealing demagogue:
Living flows like honey, dying
Is only a dream,
With Thy song in my heart.
Joy tastes of sweet nectar, sorrow
Is only a dream,
With Thy song in my brain.
Health is divine wine, illness
Is only a dream,
Why Thy song in my mind.
Praise is a shining bauble, blame
Is only a dream,
With Thy song in my soul.
I scurry from all dreams
To seek out Thy trove
With Thy song transporting me.
Where Dreams Are no More
—after “When My Dream’s Dream Is Done”
Where was I before I woke
To dream this dream
That so often is a nightmare?
Where will I go after I go
To sleep again to this
World’s waking and dreaming?
Divine Mother will enfold me
In Her arms and comfort me
In the land where dreams
Are no more.
They Have Caught a Syllable
—after “They Have Heard Thy Name”
(A prayer for agnostics and atheists)
Thou must have seen them
Struggling to keep their pace,
Not knowing they are blind,
Crippled, and alone.
They would come to Thee
If only they knew. How can they know?
When they are blind and deaf?
Thy Name is everywhere,
But they cannot hear it.
Thy Name is in their hearts,
But they do not feel it.
O Divine Beloved,
Give Thyself to them anyway.
They are Thy wondering pilgrims
Though they know it not.
O Divine Beloved,
Grip their souls so tight
That they can no longer
Walk this hell
With their smug hatred
Of the Name they cannot hear,
Of the Name they cannot say.
O Divine Beloved,
They have caught a syllable,
They have caught a glimmer
Of Thy sacredness.
Give them more, give them more
So they will know that they
Can no longer go on without Thee.
In a slightly different version of this poem/prayer appearing in my collection Singing in Soul Silence: Voice of Faith, I employed the modern use of second person singular.
Little Tippler
—after “I Will Sing Thy Name”
and Emily Dickinson’s “I taste a liquor never brewed”
Drunk and swaying to Thy Name
Lifted above the world of praise and blame.
Little Tippler leaning against a sunbeam
Drunk and singing, singing, singing Thy Name.
Thy joyful name, Om, Guru, Om—
Thy holy name, Om, Guru, Om.
Drunk on the wine never brewed
Little Tippler leaning against a sunbeam.
Thy Divine Effulgence
—after “O God Beautiful”
The world is blessed with Thy divine effulgence:
Forests whisper Thy lush leafiness.
Mountains testify to Thy majesty.
Restless rivers rush to Thy unguarded sea
Where Thy grave hand marks their madness.
O Divine Effulgence,
We bow before Thy Beauty!
O Divine Effulgence,
We humbly bow to Thy Bounty!
Servers serve for Thy pleasure!
Lovers love only through Thy treasure!
Mourners mourn for Thee alone, Thee alone!
Only Thy pure-hearted ones know Thy bliss!
Only Thy saints and yogis approach Thy bliss!
O Divine Effulgence,
We bow before Thy Beauty!
O Divine Effulgence,
We humbly bow to Thy Bounty!
All Tinsel and Tinker
—after “In the Valley of Sorrow”
I will wait for Thee, for no other
Choice have I. There is nowhere
Else to go, but to Thee.
Deceitfully, this land of sorrow
Offers joy as well, but back to sorrow
It always again returns.
This land of sorrow offers honey
That often hides a little poison
And too often too much poison.
Knowing the pessimist, I have chosen
The optimist only the learn the truth
Was with the pessimist.
In this land of sorrow, only the love
Of God and Guru is worth pursuing.
All else is tinsel and tinker.
All else is but a prod to remembrance
Of the flameless flame, the soundless song—
Where thirst is quenched by the soul’s living waters.
The Naughty Child
—after “Divine Mother’s Song to the Devotee”
Divine Mother: O my child, what do you want now?
Naughty Child: O dear Mother Divine, I want nothing but Thy love and care!
Divine Mother: But dear child of mine, I cannot give those to you; I would lose myself in your little ways.
Naughty Child: O Mother Divine, what may I ask from Thee, then?
Divine Mother: Ask me to save you from your little cares. Ask me for salvation, but don’t ask me for my love and devotion. I would become poor without them.
Naughty Child: O Mother Divine! I already have your salvation! Do not play Thy games of tit for tat, this for that. Thou canst not save me lest Thou lovest me.
Divine Mother: Funny little child of mine. You are beginning to understand. Let’s sit and watch the Eternal Sun in the East, and you will know and feel all you wish, all your little heart’s desires will be fulfilled.
Naughty Child: O Mother Divine! I bow at Thy feet again and again. Set Thy blue lotus feet upon my brow as Thou wilt. Aum! Peace! Amen!
Linda's Literary Home 