Best Brahman Poems
An hour passed, another hour without sleep,
and still his son waited.
The stars shown in through the window of their hut.
Orion winked.
Mother Earth turned in her own slumber,
The constellations smiling down on the Brahman’s cottage.
The son’s knees quivered, but not his constitution,
as the archer shot his bow across the night sky
And into the cool and wizened eye of this youth.
Moon beams poured out from the old man’s water jug,
Streaming pinpoints of light across the silent night.
Another hour without sleep or the acquittal of this stubborn boy,
the offspring of his own loins.
“Let the boy go and learn what you cannot teach,”
Old-wise moon seemed to say. “Set him free!”
The Brahman turned his face from the open window,
to mute these unwanted - unearthly mentors
only to face a greater mentor, his son at attention.
The boy instructing by example, was becoming a man.
Mars the mighty beamed down, marking the season for change.
The time had come. “But why?” The father asked in vain.
Once again, an obedient son was all that answered his refrain.
The boy would die of hungry exhaustion before accepting
a life here with the village elders,
they who had already taught all that they knew.
The first rays of Aman’s gift crawled through a small window,
to illuminate the boy’s face with the warm glow of day.
Rising from a bed that might never offer rest again.
The father stepped out and placed his hand on the shoulder of a man
he proudly called the flesh of his own flesh.
“Go now,” he offered, blessing the boy’s journey,
“And when you have returned you will teach me another lesson,
of what bliss you have found in the world.”
I
The Formless emanates forms
One is many ... Things
Spirit is Living Word
Hiding me under Wings
II
Brahma and Atma, Unity
Despite all the diversity
Do not dismiss Ambiguity
For Father, Son, Spirit-Holy
III
No time, beyond space
Faceless, Face of Grace
Immaterial with material body
Wave and Ocean simultaneously
I
If u loved, you may write sound poetry;
If u loved & lost, words add a higher degree
Of lonely beauty and crowded clarity
As was true of Dickinson, POET, Lady, my EMILY
II
Life and breath can yield great writing
Love and loss point to truth, reuniting
Where all are level, Scripture doth remind
Before this act, stage, LILA in Hindu mind
I seek the thunderclouds
on thunderous nights
when karma roars under sieving clouds
bolting within, driven by desires
the darkness of Brahman & vitality of Krishna
rumbling earthlings, throbbing arteries
blood rushes the heart
lightning striking limbs succumbing
my knees weaken,
streaked is a surrealist’s sky lit,
shamed shadows hide
tinkling rain droplets
quenching naked napes
given into those elements
evoking God's wrath,
judgement alive, awoken I’m gaining
invoking reality, unearthing its
primal pathways
peep beyond space-time, through heart’s looking glass
melding with the dark void and becoming
energised consciousness as a dense mass
wherefrom life’s born when God begins humming
brilliant luminous darkness unchanging
stillness zone from which light cannot escape
manifest worlds in Itself arranging
held solely by power of love agape
thus renewing Itself within Itself
all that is, filled by consciousness alone
which is That Brahman, The absolute Self
deep knowing we have been by God’s grace shown
Brahman is That of whom naught can be said ~
All that’s manifest, is by God’s will led