Poems of Narad

Tree of God

This is the tree beloved of the Lord,
Wounded now by strokes of human hate,
Its pain we feel as if a tyrant's sword
Slashed us when we sat to meditate

Beneath its flowered branches blessing us;
All the ravages of time withstood
Whose roots support the Bodies Glorious.
We servants and attendants though we would

Cannot replaced the severed limbs nor heal
By human hand or help by human prayer
This mortal blow delivered with such zeal
Upon its crown of beauty once so fair

That souls who shed the body would reside
Within its kingly home to be near Her,
The Mother of all lives, the Godhead's bride.
Our offerings of frankincense and myrrh,

Our aspirations laid on marble stone,
Against thy trunk we lean who seeking peace
Must somehow realize that They alone
From agony can grant thee pain's release.

O Tree of God accept our namaskars.