Why the Flute

God of Hindus hard to understand,

Why blue and with flute in His hands?


Of a vengeful Lord only we’re told,

Having a gray beard and looking old.


Why then is God Krishna so young?

And why on Gokula’s fields to run?


Is not His business to set people straight?

To eliminate vice, violence and hate?


Actually God supreme pleasure feels,

All life’s pains His company heals.


In Vrindavana secret potion they’ve found,

Just in listening to from Krishna sound.


Animals and humans stop when they hear,

The flute of Shyamasundara so dear.


Pray will come that fortunate day,

When hear that beloved sound I may.


The Basics

Holding a flute in His hand,

Calling home Vrindavana’s land.


In Yahsoda’s courtyard to roam,

Brother with Him so never alone.


With His smile others to enchant,

Take their eyes off Him they can’t.


Tending to calves during the day,

With friends enjoying childish play.


These are some facts of Krishna to know,

To His sweet vision let this mind go.

Standing In Peace

From His physical presence you can judge,

His pleasant demeanor, a smile never to budge.


From that vision a lesson you can take,

That from blissful position none can shake.


To His lotus feet let your eyes fly,

And on His protection always rely.


That smile your mental troubles to defeat,

Through Him your cherished desires to meet.


Shri Krishna so easy to forget,

So your mind to remembering Him set.


Know He’ll always be there for you,

But effort required from you too.


The greatest benefactor of the mind,

So for loving Him always make the time.

Remarkable Achievement

No proofreaders or writers,

No machines or editors.


Just from the knowledge in his brain,

And devotion to Lord of Raghu’s fame.


Came writings of greatest wealth,

Of charming rhymes for hearts to melt.


Moving here and there, living under a tree,

In glorifying God of motives was free.


Poured heart and soul, world to do the rest,

Still pleases today, passing time’s test.


For his successes I am very proud,

Tulsi is my life, I proclaim it loud.


Of Shri Rama whatever I can write,

Due entirely to Goswami’s might.


To follow divine love giving me the confidence,

I humbly go on forgetting never his brilliance.

To The Streets

On corners of busiest streets he’d stand,

To passers-by his magazine he’d hand.


His own money for printing he spent,

Delivering bhakti’s wisdom to public he went.


Not everyone a copy would buy,

But undeterred, again and again to try.


Not for selfish gain, Herculean effort,

Though constant rejection, of ego never hurt.


From his preaching so bold and brave,

Soon people across the world to save.


If not for him, today where would I be?

Mired in maya, so low the sky only to see.


Since without help, pain’s threshold to pierce,

To him I owe my best effort fearless and fierce.


Incapable am I, but debt there is to repay,

Spreading his message, I’ll honor him every day.

Back to Godhead

To his spiritual master to dedicate,

With new publication to create.


To shine love of Chaitanya so bright,

Produced magazine for every fortnight.


Poured into it all he had learned,

Spiritual merits readers then earned.


Profound wisdom on page each successive,

So unique, wealth of information impressive.


Fulfilling what guru had asked of him,

To preach in English, blasting bhakti’s wind.


So grateful for that sacrifice he took,

Embers of my ignorance away he shook.

Number One

Of books his is the best,

Passed has it time’s test.


In so many hearts, so many homes,

In brilliance to stand alone.


All-time’s number one song,

Also to this poet belongs.


In renounced order such works to write,

Support only devotion, the divine sight.


In God’s existence sometimes difficult to believe,

For through maya’s influence our eyes to deceive.


But such glories credited to a single man,

Whose writings all of space and time to span.


That God does really exist, it is so,

From life of Goswami Tulsidas know.

Unprecedented Task

Never before of anyone was this asked,

Like with what Shri Hanuman was tasked.


“Scour the earth to do this work for me,

Find my wife and from fear set her free.”


Unknown to him was Sita, but no matter,

Still never hopes of Rama or monkeys to shatter.


Little information was he provided,

But success’s hopes in him twas decided.


So much responsibility in Hanuman invested,

By demon and demigod alike to be tested.


Not until success would he rest,

Never forget him, of servants the best.

My Ego

From where should my ego come?

What am I, what have I done?


Unpredictable where dice to land,

So none of this in control of my hand.


Honor and worship Sita and Rama instead,

Maintain and sleep in devotion’s bed.


In ability of divine couple take pride,

Know always they are on devotee’s side.


None else my life and soul could be,

On chance to remember them I seize.

Riddled With Doubt

Riddled is my mind presently with doubt,

Keep this association or should I live without?


This uncertainty to eat me alive,

Time moving slow, how will I survive?


Let me think of Shri Hanuman instead,

May eyes and ears to his activities be led.


On the sound of his name ears to feed,

And pages of Ramayana daily to read.


Risk that doubt may still not go away,

But at least with Hanuman I will stay.