Friends are now all gone,
Alone with my thoughts to dwell upon.
Prefer with someone hopes to share,
But no one around who will care.
If interest in drinking or eating meat,
Others happily next to me to take their seat.
But talk of Sita and Rama? No way,
At mere mention of God they’ll turn away.
Futile it is for me to complain,
Since never from bhakti to refrain.
In loneliness glorifying Sita and Rama I go,
Can’t stop me, come high or low.
To Sita and Rama I offer this prayer,
At their loveliness let these eyes stare.
The purest love in them I see,
Most compassionate towards wretch like me.
Sita’s devotion above all,
As achyuta Rama never to fall.
By His side comfort she feels.
His enchanting vision the mind to steal.
She of loveliness and grace,
Pleases Rama with her beautiful face.
I pray that with me they’ll always stay,
That I’m theirs I can honestly say.
Before day’s work to quit,
Must do that and do this.
Then when to home you get,
More chores upon you set.
When finally done with the chase,
Against the clock again must race.
Hard to sleep when thoughts in mind,
Of tomorrow, from start to rewind.
Mind from here to there to wander,
So how of Sita and Rama will ponder?
Rama, whose name to the ears a gem,
And His wife Sita, I work only for them.
Have pity not for my plight,
For to serve them I will fight.
For man’s spiritual hunger to feed,
Someone must be there to lead.
The easier road it is to sit back,
And quietly spiritual credits rack.
This method great for the self,
But how others it will help?
If leadership position you take,
Others to know if you are fake.
Looking directly in scrutiny’s face,
Prabhupada travelled across the states.
Bhakti-yoga his disciples humbly took,
And to him for guidance they looked.
Credit such a leader never can get enough,
Honor him I try, no matter how tough.
Blessed with some magical touch,
Of bhakti I have written so much.
Fast typing my only real qualification,
And somehow that used for God’s glorification.
But philosophy to me now seems dry,
With endless explanations why should I try?
Preference really in holy names so sweet,
Maha-mantra to play in my mind on repeat.
With fellow devotees preferring to sit,
Sankirtana-yajna my spirits to uplift.
True power in Lord’s name this means,
Hearing which creates scripture’s scenes.
In this way Ramayana and Gita I always see,
This chanting brings so much pleasure to me.
Devaki’s children to die no more,
Prophecy now to even the score.
Supreme Lord in prison to appear,
In form of youth to remove parents’ fear.
As the clock struck midnight,
Lord Narayana seen in brilliant light.
After at divine vision having a look,
His son to Gokula Vasudeva took.
Kamsa’s reign of terror soon to end,
His due punishment Shri Krishna to send.
Watching Olympic athletes terrific,
Each has their traits specific.
Gymnasts expert on the rings,
To field muscular arms they bring.
To swim the race fast and clean,
Swimmers have bodies that are lean.
In spiritual life same features that distinguish,
Qualities to arise when desires extinguished.
With consciousness clean and neat,
No need for drinking or meat to eat.
When with Supreme Lord you connect,
Needless behavior easier to detect.
In a mood of honesty here I sit,
So one thing I’m forced to admit.
As so many days of life have faded,
My outlook now has become jaded.
Same allurements don’t do it for me,
A pattern of boring repetition is all I see.
True towards all with one exception,
For him mind gives warmest reception.
By his name and words seeing,
Apathy then quickly retreating.
Hanuman this heart into happiness sends,
Vows to think of him daily, from start to end.
Seems Shri Rama has made a mistake grave,
That to such fool some writing ability He gave.
Know that all bad qualities exist in me,
Not a hint of piety or goodness to see.
Ability to type is my gift lone,
Knowledge from guru and Lord, not my own.
Nothing else in life I really know,
So glorifying Rama and bhakti I go.
Of my true character I’ll never tell,
Not even if before me Rama to yell.
In anonymity to glorify, that is the deal,
Only then extreme guilt not to feel.
From hearing every single appeal,
Then mounts the pressure I feel.
Asked to wear so many hats,
To please this person and that.
Now away from it all I want to run,
Time for worship of Sita and Rama has come.
With outside distractions gone,
Their glories easier to dwell upon.
Finding safety in this strangest of way,
Restless mind with Sita and Rama will stay.