Pritha's pomes

Some rhyme, romance and a wee bit reason maybe, bear with me ?


Radha and Rukmini…

A dear friend who is of the Muslim faith asked me yesterday about Radha, Krishna and Rukmini. I put on my Google Hat and sent her a bunch of links.
In Hindu mythology these three divine characters have their unique places both individually and collectively. Krishna as all of us know, is looked upon as the supreme Godhead. Rukmini was his queen, while Radha his Divine Consort. The love they each had for their Lord has been food for thought, verse, and music for historians and spiritual aspirants alike.

This is my purely ignorant and humble excuse of an attempt to understand the most beautiful thing in this world, selflessness in love, and the way it is epitomized in in their divine play.

One His queen, His joy, His pride

One His love, always by His side.

One betrothed around the fire,

One besotted with spiritual desire.

One worshipped Him, as Her Lord Supreme

One He appeared for, in her every dream.

One remains as truth and a timeless fact of history

The other is the question and the answer to…

… True Love’s most divine mystery.

radha krishna



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my anchor and sail…

To soar the skies, to swim the sea,

To be all, that one can dream to be,

To err and know there is hope tomorrow,

Let’s you forgive, and learn from every sorrow.

To ask for, and find new paths to tread,

To silence fears of which one has read,

To cry and laugh for another day,

To know love and hate can both hold their sway.

To live, and learn all this, and more,

To know behind tears, there are smiles galore,

To win each time even if you fail,

Is when you find within, your anchor, and your sail…

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Twilight or Dawn …

Dark satin skies with bits of piercing light,

Purple hues cloak within, tales of a forbidden night

Has my day ended or has it just begun?

Do I rise with this dawn, or get lost in this twilight?

Life stretches out in its myriad shades

Choose a color, it taunts, from my wondrous pallete

Let’s see you paint your world as you see,

Will you cower in the shadows or learn to break free?

I gently pick up the colorless brush,

And look at the canvas stretched before me.

Twlight or dusk, I laugh back at life,

Neither can rob myself of thee.

The taunting voice is now a gentle smile,

As life’s colorful pallete tempts my fate,

I pick up the brush one more time,

And decide to make this painting only mine.

I am no artist to know my hues,

I am no painter to understand the cues,

The colors take on a life of their own,

And deep within me,

………..the seeds of dawn and twilight are sown.