POESY: THE LOTUS BLOOMS

THE LOTUS BLOOMS

Float like a lotus on water. 

Water wets it not.

So may the world 

With all its fetters

Bind not you

Who have given all up

Unto the Lord of love,

Vāsudev Krishna Bhagavān

Who sang the Song Celestial 

That resonates through space and time,

Age after age,

Aeon after aeon,

Unto the present moment

Of shining memory,

Of shifting bounds

And brightening horizon,

Till in the noonshine of blissful vision

The veil lifts

And lifts you up

Unto ethereal heights 

Of resplendent bliss,

And leaves you thence 

On earth hither

At the cowdust hour 

To glide by the Yamunā,

Listening rapt to the Yaman 

Flowing from the flute

Of the flautist perennial,

The Lord of notes,

Of the split spectrum 

In its coloured joy,

The peacock-plumed one,

The one and only one who plays,

Who sports in the groves,

By the riverside banks

And the hills that pull 

With their heightened charm.

Live by Him and live in Him,

The primal and the final friend

Who never leaves but ever loves 

Till life and death have all ceased 

In ecstasy that endless is.

Even today the Rās goes on

In eternal Vrindāvan's eternal groves,

The Nidhu which in nightly dance

Yet holds them all,

In a sublime mix,

Thirty-two thousand and two, one, six.

Composed by Sugata Bose 🕉 

Dated: 11 September, 2025, the Chicago Day.

Time: 10.25 p.m.

Place: Saptaparni, Kolkata.