A Poem For Srila Prabhupada
(published in BTG 1996)
By Kalakantha Dasa
You could have stayed in Vrndavana,
Where chanting is most sweet,
Or moved to holy Navadvipa,
In spiritual retreat.
Your Godbrothers had temples there
With room enough for you
To sit and preach each Gaura Purnima
To a visitor or two.
You could have said, âItâs Krsnaâs willâ
My visa was denied;
I may have failed, but now I know,
At least, that I have tried.â
Your patron said youâd die abroad;
Your Godbrother just scoffed;
You could have said, âWhoâll meet the boat
And guide me safely off?â
You could have had one look at us
And said, âWhat have I done?â
And caught the next boat back to home,
Unblamed by anyone.
âThe Westerners,â you could have said,
âCan go to hell and stay.â
Who would have disagreed with you?
We were well on our way.
Instead you laid your final years
Like flowers at Krsnaâs feet,
Siddhantaâs smile your hidden guide,
Thakuraâs vision in reach.
Producing eighty volumes
As you guided us along,
You showed us how to cook prasada
And preach Lord Krsnaâs song.
And as we preach, the boys and girls
From every land on earth
Come forth to serve you, Prabhupada,
Renewed in second birth.
I could have been a doctor,
Had I but stayed in school;
Might have made a couple million,
Built a fancy house and pool.
I could have written novels,
Legislated laws and rules;
I could have been a music star;
I could have just been cool.
Instead I laid my youthful years
Like flowers at your feet;
Malpouras caused my interest,
Samosas my defeat.
My Dad said, âSon, youâre brainwashed!â
My friend said, âYouâre a fool!â
My shortfalls as a Vaisnava
Numbered many, victories few.
Reflecting on my bygone youth,
(As at mid-life one is prone,)
I wouldnât trade your glance for gold,
Your words for precious stones.
This morning on the japa trail,
The northern star shone down;
So fixed and true, it seemed like you,
With devas circling round.
But dawn concealed that heavenly stage
And lit a wintry scene,
Of all I am, and all you are,
And all that lies between.