January 18, 2000
O night bereft of moon the stars shall guide My steps upon the winding roads of time, No taint of darkness ultimately can hide Nor veil from sight the mystery sublime. I've found the fruited grove where the God-child plays And slumbers in this hidden cave of mine, Opening late the secret Book of Days I befriended Him as I cleansed the vaulted Shrine. In dream-like fields amongst the golden kine I spy his blue-white radiance abroad Fluting to rapturous bloom this golden sward, Krishna, beloved, friend and guide and Lord.
(First published in Mother India - July 2001)
Poems Undated (1727)
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