posted on October 19, 2012 at 12:53 pm

hemming away at sea

how i long for my indian garden

i live within the temple

i come out at dusk as it begins to grow cooler

i come out at dusk

i hear the birds and the lowing of the cattle

a flute and tamboura

i roll out my mat and stretch out downwards

my feet grip this earth

my hands reach out ahead

my head hangs between my shoulders

and i stretch against myself

the way a dog or cat stretches

in my indian garden there is a light warm rain

i smell sandalwood incense

i turn my attention towards god

but my mind races and races

no quieten down !…. i say

but my mind is hither is thither restless and stubborn

i perceive a conflict between my heart and my mind

my heart asks me

is not a chance meeting with god not enough for mind to still itself ?

and then mind says

if god will appear….. then i will become quiet…..

nevertheless i continue with my yoga

i wonder who i is who is continuing

a voice says

that is your eternal soulĀ 

i stand up and look out

the jungle all around

i am a wandering monk, i am an itinerant madman

but i live here now in this temple to some ancient shiva

and my indian garden full of statues

every god blows my mind and heart

vishnu the gorgeous one the preserver

ganesha the kindest merriest god

jesus the man of sorrows and the son of man

krsna god of love and beauty

radha his consort radiant and serene

buddha avatar of vishnu, the blessed one

odin the allfather who gave his eye for knowledge

ishtar fertlility goddess and mistress of stars

known as isis easter she comes as dream

loki king of tricks father of monsters

jove jehovah masculine and huge, a jealous flame

his will be done

brahma who looks past present future

poseidon from the waves frowning and angry

i kneel to every god i kneel to one

i kneel with my face against my mat and i breathe

when i stand up the loveliness of it all strikes me

gratitude for all this

for it did not have to be so

i dont know

i feel god in and around me

then suddenly gone

when i least expect it i am talking to myself

my indian garden throbs with vegetal life

i see god in every little weed and plant

in the stones and dust in the atoms and emptiness

god is there immanent

i focus

he is gone

i am elated i am crushed

i stand in garudasana

my single foot on the ground finds balance

i sway and i move

i concentrate on my body in its posture

i will yoke my self to whatevers out there

the universe or god or both or some other force

god approaching is a warm feeling

warmer than the warmest most delicious day in the sun

when you were a child you felt warm and safe

my indian garden holds me in that way

my temple room is cool and simple

i live in the cell of an ascetic

still the mind races and races

still the heart yearns for women or chocolate or power or something

god is reluctant

his visits are fleeting

oh krsna my dearest friend oh come to me now

oh krsna i call your name in the emptiness of jungle

down by black lakes where white egret soars

oh jesus come to me at midnight

oh jesus i am sitting on my mat in lotus

i strive towards you too hard and then you cannot come

other voices in my head drowning out my prayers

oh mother kali then take me in your arms

the end of a world is coming

and the beginning of all others

oh god the hint of you is more dreamy than a gallon of opium

in my indian garden the weeds flower

the night daze amaze me

you drain devotion

i spend lives chasing you

tell me why do you have to be so elusive?

i rebuke you all for leaving me dangling

feeding me tiny morsels you keep my hopes alive

oh god if i ever catch up with you

if i ever get my hands around your cross

if i ever walk with you again by those glorious pools

i always forget my questions when i do see you

whichever shape you appear in

oh i never approach the real big you

but you come in one of your forms

they all are good for me

i know who it is behind all of this

sometimes my private prayers are answered

god oh you have been so good to me

you are that mysterious event that no one can name

you put it in motion you maintain it in motion

oh such poetry oh such geometry oh such continuity

oh god how you combine the obvious with the mysterious

every move you make

your tiniest leaf

well i sit in my indian garden looking at your tiniest leaf

the symmetry of its veins the graduating colours

if this were indeed your only work

why i could stare at it forever

today i saw a far-off whale

its huge white plume erupting from a churning ocean

of course i thought of jonah

i chase you

he ran from you

no one can find you if you dont want to be found

none may hide from you if you beckon to them somehow

in my indian garden i repeat my mantra

my mantra concerns five rings of existence

the fifth part of the mantra is gods name

slowly my heart steadies and quietens

surely my mind settles down eventually

i sit there in my indian garden

jungle city garden ocean

ive had everything

ive lost everything

now there is only god

villages lakes rivers hills

birds children pilgrims kings

priests singers soldiers doctors

wives daughters sisters girls

in my indian garden i sit and wait

and my impatience seems to wane

even tho the waiting never ends

the anticipation of gods arrival is nevertheless delectable

 

 

 

 

 

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