Come in From the Cold
~by Ananda VrindavanCome in from the coldAnd warm your heartBy the fire of the holy nameCome in from the coldDark areas of your mindThat separate you fromLight and comfortAnd make you think-and sometimes do-Crazy things Come in from the coldAnd warm your toesBy the fire of Krishna’sLove for youA love so real and trueBut we are so coldIt’s hard to feel itCome in from the coldStop your shivering out thereThinking you are fineCan do it on your ownCome comeThe house is warmThe kettle singingAccept the invitationAnd be at peace
Late Autumn
The leaves are almost to an end
Coming into burnt and dull colors
Even against the sun and blue sky
The cold creeps in on early morning
The cold hand of fear grips us tightly
As we try to wrap ourselves away from it.
The leaves are almost at an end
The quiet dark of winter comes early
And evening lights turn on by five.
Winter waves of joy
Rustle the last of the leaves
Piling them into heaps on the ground
Waiting for pick up by hard and underpaid
Workers, many of whom may feel like those leaves
That they can be pushed aside, pushed around,
Swept up to be cast away at a moment’s notice.
And we wonder at the discontent around us?
We are emptier of love than the bare trees
And more fallen than the leaves we walk on.
Fall Birds
~by Ananda Vrindavan
I heard them first before they rose above the tree topsBlack against the evening sky with warm westing sunTheir guide to the great south and their home away from homeTheir formation of open diamond shape is art at workTheir calling and rhythm of wings is a performanceAs they carry each other together with power and beautyWe watch, those of us with eyes interested to stop and seeThose of us grounded on earth, grounded in our bodyAnd we, or at least I, am filled with a sense magic, thatSomehow these birds can make such theatre of their travelA leaving to a better place with energy and song and togethernessSanga should be this good, this visual, this aliveCalling Krishna together as we head homeMaking others stop in wonder at our joyFlying high above the world of namesInto the sunset of our material lifeTo land in a better place, in Krishna’s placeMay we all follow the longing of our heartAnd head into the open sky of BhaktiAs eager as the fall geese going south, without delay
The Poetry of Nature
a conversation with Jahnavi Harrison
During late October's Eco Bhakti Weekend, Grammy-nominated artist and BBC radio presenter Jahnavi Harrison reflected on how Bhakti poetry can help us to more connect to divinity through a deeper appreciation of the natural world. The Eco Bhakti Weekend was organized by Yale University’s Ecology Forum in partnership with the Bhakti Center, NYC and Princeton University Hindu Life Program. To listen to the session please click on this link.
The Great Fall
by Ananda Vrindavan devi dasi
--------
I watch the trees and
marvel at the tumbling leaves
now dancing on the gravel path
romanced by the wind.
I love all seasons but especially Fall
It cannot but stir feelings in the heart
and if you have Krishna in your heart
or wish Him to be there
then the dancing leaves
shining in the sunlight
dazzling, delicate, fluttering
swirling, twirling, softly landing
can bring you to feel
the spirit of love
for the One who has orchestrated
this autumn performance.
Then, as the poet Nye says,
“Walk around like a leaf.
Know you could tumble at any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.”
For Courage
by John O'Donohue When the light around you lessensAnd your thoughts darken untilYour body feels fear turnCold as a stone inside,When you find yourself bereftOf any belief in yourselfAnd all you unknowinglyLeaned on has fallen,When one voice commandsYour whole heart,And it is raven dark,Steady yourself and seeThat it is your own thinkingThat darkens your world.Search and you will findA diamond-thought of light,Know that you are not alone,And that this darkness has purpose;Gradually it will school your eyes,To find the one gift your life requiresHidden within this night-corner.Invoke the learningOf every sufferingYou have suffered.Close your eyes.Gather all the kindlingAbout your heartTo create one sparkThat is all you needTo nourish the flameThat will cleanse the darkOf its weight of festered fear.A new confidence will come aliveTo urge you towards higher groundWhere your imaginationwill learn to engage difficultyAs its most rewarding threshold!
From the books, Benedictus (Europe) / To Bless the Space Between Us (US).
Sacred Sound
~by Ananda Vrindavan devi dasi
Recently I worked on a series of 100 Haikus with the theme “Things I Hear”. Sound is the medium of transformation in the Krishna Bhakti practice - sacred sound to touch our true, eternal self. Even ordinary sound can prompt remembering Krishna if we are tuned in, what to speak of sacred sound. Here are a selection of the Haikus that were written around the Maha Mantra in Japa and Kirtan:
-----
The Vraja Gopi’s
Hear the sound of Krishna’s fluteAnd run to meet love Longing for KrishnaThey move through the full moon nightHearing their heartbeat A powerful NameInvites us to sit with itLean in and listen Hearing and chantingAre like sunshine for the soulGo stand in the sun Shh! Be still! Be still!Listen to the sound of loveIn sacred japa My wild crazy mindSometimes makes a lot of noiseI chant to calm it down The call and responseHearing voices in returnEcho Krishna’s love By hearing the NameWe give hospitalityTo the deep self All I have is meTo offer to You with NamePlease hear me calling Brilliant as the sunThe holy Name loves us allAnd keeps us closer Does the holy NameFall like the sound of raindropsOn my open heart? Uncountable loveThe sound of non stop chantingWhere we want to be Sweet and steadyingThe Holy Name remediesAll my worrying Dazzling Holy NameHeals, frees, cleans, holds, and much moreSound bath through the ear
Building Strong Connections & Friendships in Krishna Consciousness
This is a poem that Ananda Vrndavan wrote about Krsnanandini. Krsnanandini gave a talk last week on the Vaisnavi Ministry site and Ananda was supposed to introduce her. Click here to listen to Krsnanandini's talk. Ananda, as the community president of ISKCON of DC, was busy organizing our temple's Community Supported Agriculture distribution and the next few days of our Krsna Janmastami festivities. Below is the poem that Ananda had intended to read as an introduction. All the best, Rukmini Walker
[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5bqrkAmZB4&feature=youtu.be[/embed]
When Great Trees Fall: Animated Video
The other day, after hearing of the passing of our beloved Bhakti Caru Maharaj, we posted this poem called, When Great Trees Fall, by Maya Angelou.My dear friends: the artist, Rukmini Poddar, created this beautiful and poignant video animation, with kirtaneer, Jahnavi Harrison reading the poem, along with music by Night Squall, Bowspirit, and Balmorhea.I hope you find it as beautiful and moving as I did.All the best,Rukmini Walker[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nu2pki6owJg[/embed]
When Great Trees Fall
by Maya Angelou
-----
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by the radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of
dark, cold
caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
Color
*This poem is taken from the award winning book Prema Mala
Surprised by Joy
by Ananda Vrindavan
----
It’s a restless morning
I’m dragging myself around
Avoiding my beads and other meditations
Until I open the front door and there I see
A colorful box turtle, holding still
With neck stretched and head raised
It’s an utter surprise in these pre-dawn hours
And the extraordinary beauty stops me in my tracks
‘Sit with me’ I hear her say. Slow down. Take your beads
And I do. I sit nearby and watch her not move
Except for her eye which glints in the porch light
And reminds me of the soul within
Kindred spirits, this turtle and I
Why now, why at this moment do you cross my path?
To encourage me to keep going
No matter how slow things seem to be?
To withdraw within when I need to?
To hold still and be quiet more often?
Later she is gone
I miss our momentary connection
But savour the gift of her presence
And the prompts she left in my life.
--
O Bird of My Heart…
Inspired by Srila Bhaktivinode Thakur’s “Keno Hare Krsna Nam”
by Divya Alter
-------
O bird of my heart, I know you long to be free.
Set your sorrow apart, the holy name is the key.
Why can’t you cry while chanting Krsna’s name sublime?
Why do you try to fit in Maya’s paradigm?
What sins have brought you this state of misery?
What wants have caught you in this cage of apathy?
O bird of my heart, I know you long to be free
Set your sorrow apart, the holy name is the key.
Come! Let us go back home and join the pranks divine.
Come! Let us roam about Yamuna’s banks and shrines.
There is the only place devoid of mundane sadness,
Where you can cry “Radhe Shyam!” in loving madness.
O bird of my heart, I know you long to be free…
" We fell asleep in one world..."
I've been thinking how interesting it is that during this time of 'social distancing', which we really should be calling 'physical distancing’— many people are noticing that, worldwide, we are caring more deeply about each other. It's almost brought us to a more cosmic consciousness of interconnectivity. So interesting... Here are a couple of poems I think you might find inspiring. ~ Be safe, be well, and be blessed, Rukmini Walker
~by Haroon Rashid*
We fell asleep in one world, and woke up in another.
Suddenly Disney is out of magic,
Paris is no longer romantic,
New York doesn't stand up anymore,
The Chinese wall is no longer a fortress,
and Mecca is empty.
Hugs and kisses suddenly become weapons,
and not visiting parents and friends
becomes an act of love.
Suddenly you realize that power, beauty and money
are worthless, and can't get you
the oxygen you're fighting for.
The world continues its life, and it is beautiful.
It only puts humans in cages.
I think it's sending us a message:
"You are not necessary. The air, earth, water and sky
without you are fine. When you come back,
remember that you are my guests.
Not my masters."
---------
*Correction with apologies to the author of this poem, which was originally published as "by Anonymous" **Painting by Gina Rose Halpern
Japa Walking
Ananda Vrindavan is my friend, our community president here in the Metro DC area, an educator, and a poet. She's Irish, and started her working life as a Montessori teacher. She later taught at the Vrindavan Gurukula for twenty years, fifteen years of which she was also the principal there. I become enchanted and pulled to a deeper place when I read her poems. I invite you to journey with us! ~Rukmini Walker
~by Ananda Vrindavan
I take my beads for a walk
Moving my feet, my fingers
And my voice reciting the mantras
Quietly as I circle the park
As I circle a round
I pass some joggers
I am jogging too, my rounds
That is, four on this walk
I hope not too fast that I
Don’t listen well, don’t
Connect with Krishna.
There is a man with
His head down
I should be that
Concentrated
Only momentarily distracted
By the beauty of nature
The sound of the early morning birds
The soft warm beginning day sun
There a car cruises by
I have to watch for cruising
How easy it is to
Cruise the universe
With the mantra in the background
There is a dog on a leash
Looking at me as I pass by
I need to keep my mind on a leash methinks
And an elderly couple walking together
We need sanga on this spiritual path
Even though I chant alone,
I need to be with others
We hold each other up, keep each other
Going, and stretch each other deeper.
I japa walk back home
In this life and to the one
In the spiritual world.
Nityanandastakam
Lord Nityananda is the most ecstatically merciful, dearest brother of Lord Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu. Today is His holy Appearance Day. Please be blessed by this very sweet English rendition of a prayer to Him composed by His biographer, Sri Vrndavan dasa Thakur. ~ All the best, Rukmini Walker
~ by Srila Vrndavan dasa Thakur~
Autumn moon mocking, Pure complexion Shining, Elephant walking,
Loving God so madly, Pure goodness personified, Face smiling brightly,
His eyes always rolling, Staff in HIs hands glowing, Kali-Yuga piercing,
Worship Nityananda, Root of the banyan tree, without ending!
He carries all rasas, for HIs dear devotees, He’s incomparable,
His breath counting, Vasuda and Jahnava’s beloved husband.
Always mad with pure love, The Supreme who’s unknown, to minds of weak substance,
Worship Nityananda, Root of the banyan tree, without ending!
Son of Saci’s dearest, Served by all the universe, Made of happiness
He rescues all divas, drowning in this dark age, by HIs great kindness
Chanting Hare Krsna, removing out swelling pride, from waves of existence,
Worship Nityananda, Root of the banyan tree, without ending!
“Oh brother these people in Kali-yuga are so sinful, and more are coming,
Please devise some method, where You could redeem them, which would be easy.”
In this way You go and counsel with Gaura, out of great mercy,
Worship Nityananda, Root of the banyan tree, Without ending!
“Don’t be shy Oh brothers, Just say Hari Hari, Chanting this always,
Doing this I promise, to pull you from the ocean, of mundane existence.”
With His upraised arms, He walks to every household, shouting so loudly,
Worship Nityananda, Root of the banyan tree, without ending!
Like Agastya Muni, forcefully You swallow, this ocean of darkness,
Oh friend of the lotus, rising and increasing, our oceans of good fortune,
Like the sun You’ve come, removing the darkness, made by the miscreants,
Worship Nityananda, Root of the banyan tree, without ending!
Dancing and singing, calling out- Hari, on every pathway,
While He wanders He sees, even the mean people, as brothers and sisters,
From the corners of His eyes, He glances kindly, at sincere devotees,
Worship Nityananda, Root of the banyan tree, without ending!
Nicely holding lotus hands with HIs brother, so soft and lovely,
Each other’s face gazing, in Their hearts arising, highest ecstasy,
Wandering with sweet moods, Oh how They’re delighting, all the town’s people,
Worship Nityananda, root of the banyan tree, without ending!
Reservoir of rasa, most exalted rasika Vaisnava treasure,
Essence of all flavors, fallen souls remember Him and He saves them,
Reciting these verses, Of the supreme glories of Sri Nityananda,
May His two lotus feet, constantly manifest, within your own heart!
Bravery
by Acyuta Gopi
To be Krishna conscious, is to be brave. To live spiritually, to ask soul-deep questions, to wonder; that is bravery. When the world will whisper to you to simply close your eyes and let your soul sleep, to force your gaze in the opposite direction of that cunning complacency, that is bravery. To lean in to the truth that you are more than this one moment, more than this one year, more, even, than this one lifetime, and to choose to walk in the faith that you are being prepared for a higher purpose, is bravery. Being you, sparkling and shimmering as you are, is brave. To understand the complex sadness that often envelops this world and to hope for the joy of transcendence in spite of it, is brave. To pray time and time again and wish and hope against hope for all the miracles that your soul absolutely knows it deserves, is brave. And to live, create, feel and love in a space dominated by the one singular thought that “I believe in Krishna. I have faith in Krishna. Krishna will always help me” is the ultimate act of bravery. Surrender is brave.You are a warrior. Sharpen your weapons of faith and determination. Hone your skills of compassion and thoughtfulness. And let your overwhelming loving nature be your armor. You are a warrior. And you are brave. Don’t you ever forget that.
Show Up Each Day
by Ananda Vrindavan Devi
--------
Each day is a lifetime in itself
It’s own universe
We start again each day
Moments that are right now
Today, and that’s why
We show up to our japa
Each day, at some part of the day
To anchor ourselves
To connect with Krishna
Beyond this life and the day that’s in it
To remind ourselves that we are
Above it all, which allows us to be
Present to it all, the material energy,
As Krishna’s own energy
Part of him, belonging to him.
And as we live through it
Work through it, struggle through it
We can love and let go each day, every day
And we’ll be ready then, for the great letting go
At the end, when it happens.
Being Human
I wonder if the sun debates dawnsome morningsnot wanting to riseout of bedfrom under the down-feather horizon
if the sky grows tiredof being everywhere at onceadapting to the moodswings of the weather
if clouds drift offtrying to hold themselves togethermake deals with gravityto loiter a little longer
I wonder if rain is scaredof fallingif it has troubleletting go
if snow flakes get sickof being perfect all the timeeach onetrying to be one-of-a-kind
I wonder if stars wishupon themselves before they dieif they need to teach their younghow to shine
I wonder if shadows longto just-for-once feel the sunif they get lost in the shufflenot knowing where they’re from
I wonder if sunriseand sunsetrespect each othereven though they’ve never met
if volcanoes get stressedif storms have regretsif compost believes in lifeafter death
I wonder if breath ever thinks of suicideif the wind just wants to sitstill sometimesand watch the world pass by
if smoke was bornknowing how to riseif rainbows get shy back stagenot sure if their colors match right
I wonder if lightning sets an alarm clockto know when to crackif rivers ever stopand think of turning back
if streams meet the wrong seaand their whole lives run off-trackI wonder if the snowwants to be black
if the soil thinks she’s too darkif butterflies want to cover up their marksif rocks are self-conscious of their weightif mountains are insecure of their strength
I wonder if waves get discouragedcrawling up the sandonly to be pulled back againto where they began
if land feels stepped uponif sand feels insignificantif trees need to question their loversto know where they stand
if branches waver at the crossroadsunsure of which way to growif the leaves understand they’re replaceableand still dance when the wind blows
I wonderwhere the moon goeswhen she is in hidingI want to find her there
and watch the oceanspin from a distancelisten to herstir in her sleep
effort give way to existence
A Poet on Faith
Anna is a dear sister on the Bhakti path. Here is an inspiration from her...~ Rukmini Walker
By Anna Cooperberg
I was meandering around Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia when I came upon a man seated behind on a small stool behind a tiny rickety table. On the table was a typewriter. “Pick a topic, get a poem,” the sign said. Intrigued, I walked over. “You can write a poem about anything?” I asked. "Anything you want," he responded. I thought for a moment. “Faith. Write a poem about faith.” Immediately, he started typing. Clickety clack--you know how those old typewriters sound. I was strangely nervous to read the final product. Would the poem be any good? After a short while—and without pause—the poet removed a small piece of paper from the typewriter and presented it to me with a flourish.Wallace Stevens wrote that “the poet is the priest of the invisible.” Poetry is so considered; it packs so much into just a few words. And that's what makes it beautiful. It means different things to different people, because there is room for personal interpretation.That park poet, Marshall James Kavanaugh (known as the Dream Poet for Hire), truly captured the invisible. Take a read, and see what this poem, written with wisdom and tact, means to you.