Wild Flowers

Your favourite flowers I planted,
From the lotus to blue lily; disenchanted.
A few bloomed – bright and fragrant,
But they all withered on your idol silent.

I know the flowers in nature they bloom,
Smell like an open bottle of perfume.
Worldly flowers those but later fade and drop down,
Like the mortal life we seem to own!

But now wild flowers in my garden,
Raise their heads all of a sudden,
Where they came from
Tell me Hey Lord of this asylum?

Where can I find
Eight blossoms of an unknown kind?
Its colour I have seen never,
Nor the odour smelt prior.

Those strange flowers of your creation never wither
When I gather them in my heart like peacock feather
From then on, in tranquil blue waters I float,
With my senses under control like a hermit’s boat.

My tolerant eyes now drink unceasing compassion
My hands fold in truthful confession.
My mind drifts in divine meditation,
When the soul melts in peaceful salvation!


This poem talks about the eight flowers to be offered to God described in Bhagavatham. They are (1) Ahimsa (Non-violence), (2) Indhriya Nigraha (Control of senses), (3) Sarvabhootha Dhaya (Compassion towards all beings), (4) Sathyam (Truth), (5) Dhyaanam (Meditation), (6) Shanti (Peace), (7) Vinaya (Humility), (8) Bhakthi (Devotion) and we thought the flowers to be offered were the ones from your earthly garden.

The Sacred Threads Of Madness

Trapped in a sacred thread,
His kites failed to rise above the head.
Empty soul chanted rhythmic mantras,
When he performed those meaningless tantras.

Fire never purged his sin bowl,
Blessed water couldn’t cleanse his crooked soul.
Sandalwood marks on his body smelt foul,
Life remained untouched by the mistaken ghoul.

Religion never let him pray,
Words never let him say,
Light forgot to shed a ray,
His life lost in divine disarray.

Deserted dreams returned to haunt this puppet king,
As he danced loose on tangled string.
Cosmic currents suckled his eternal swing
When madness brought religion a wedding ring.