Pritha's pomes

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

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A Sculptor’s Prayer

My Maker
My Mother
You shaped me
So today I shape Thee

I know not Thy form
I know not Thy grace
My eyes can barely see
The beauty of Thy face

Yet you let me play
Like a child with a wand
And fashion Thy visage
In the palm of my hand.

– PL
Oct 2013face


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Mahalaya.. a day of reckoning.

Amidst those from teeming millions
Amidst hearts brimming with love
Amidst souls that reach out to Thee

I offer mine,

My prayers without words,
My thoughts without meaning,
My finite incomplete self, to merge into Thy Whole…

I offer my pranams on Mahalaya, MA…

– PL
Oct 2013


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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a fateful night…

Stormy night and flooding rains,
The anguish of two new mothers’ pains,
Separated by a river they awaited the Light,
And come it did, on this very tumultuous night.

Radiant and beautiful they were aglow,
As these glorious women came to know
One was the mother of the Child of her dream,
While the other would raise the Lord Supreme.

Raging waters and a thunderous night,
Curses galore in the lightning bright.
The god child took birth and peace would reign,
The solemn belief that no one could feign.

Eons later we pray to HIM this night,
To keep us safe as His father did Him, while they took flight.
The Lord Himself , so humble in His mortal existence.
The epitome of submission, into the finality of Providence.

(Parijat’s paw prints 🙂 and the feather she was blessed with at this same temple when she made her first visit at 2 months. )


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To touch the face of the Divine

Rocks with a million stories untold,
Sunsets that paint the valleys gold.

Still waters that run way deep,
Secrets of the universe within, they keep.

When time stands still as a million stars shine,
Maybe just for a fleeting moment,
you touched the face of the Divine…

(July 2nd 2011: saw a glimpse of the universe in all its splendor and quiet dignity while on a night cruise along Colorado River – will remain one of the most humbling experiences of my life …)