Thursday, July 22, 2010


If a soul desires to be mean
it is not a choice an ocean floats.
Beyond the visions of cosmic universe
I can see him, my little Krishna
who listents me from the rain filled valley
of Govardan and hears even the secret
whispers of minds 
there I conflict not
as  he knows me from the innermost
there I hide no secrets
and when he watches through the narrow
black spots of  conspiring minds
it  is true from the valley behind that mountain
I heard his flute several times

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