By Bhaktimarg Swami
“How did they do it?” I asked for fun.
Get all the nations to move as one.
Herding the cats of the Coronal globe.
In the culture of kama, krodha, and lobh.
And who are they-anyway
Conspiracy theorists do certainly say
It’s the Orient or perhaps an elite few
But this is so much fodder to actually chew.
We need not delve into the depths of this.
It can lead to a dark, ominous, abyss.
Contemplation on dubious matter can break one’s bhakti making it shatter.
I started a garden with much endeavour
An elephant came, destroyed it, said “Never!”
We could give attention to a lofty place,
Or glide down in life to a lower case.
The trickster mind says, “I know the truth.”
Know it for certain it’s the voice of youth.
So prioritize and face those lotus feet where blue and red do virtually
meet.
Time is short, it’s death, it’s God.
He’s laying the carpet and sowing the sod.
Making the clock go clickity click.
If we don’t move he’ll give us a kick.
Sands do sift through the hourglass.
Approach life in style and in class.
People may say not to turn a blind eye
I say “touché” too much pie in the sky.