THE GLORY OF BHAKTI
A quite quietude is what a Bhakth prefers.
Alone he dwells in cosmic rhapsody,
when mental functions cease, his vision blurs
and spirit frees from body’s custody.”
They like their think-alikes and lo join force
with them. Some tell my tales, some hear all ears,
and chant my names some loud, until turn hoarse
their voices and eyes start raining joy tears.
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Their mien is pleasant, actions damp with sweet
nectar of love. Their very glance absolves
one of his sins and makes chaste and discreet.
And lo around such Bhakts the world revolves.
They’re clouds of love over a land of weed;
that shower nascent hail of monsoon boom
to slake world’s spiritual thirst, and sow the seed
of bhakti sweet, in eager earthly womb.
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The way a flower spreads its sweet fragrance
around, their very presence diffuses
the numinous incense of God’s essence
through sacred love, virtue and moral sense.
The very place they live becomes a sacred shrine,
the earth becomes fertile, the waters taste
like mead, all seasons bloom with vernal shine
and all karmas become hallowed and chaste.
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Vedas and Shastras gain new power and force.
Inspired by such Bhaktas the commoners
follow Dharma and walk the spiritual course
and soon downturn vices and thoughts perverse.
What more O dames…those doused in pure Bhakti
are blessed and blessed as well are their forbears
in upper worlds. The angels dance with glee
sipping this manmade mead in earthenwares.
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Behold, there lies beneath the outer chaos
a peaceful light in all-that cares no race
and color. O dames, Bhakti knows no bias.
Ye share with all your sacred love and grace.
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