Divinity

Ancient Beads 


From a simple ritual
To the practicing yogi,
The one hundred and eight beads
Constitutes a time for intentional focus.

Initiated in the 8th century BC,
These spiritual beads in Hinduism
Now are used through Islam, Christianity
Buddhism, 2/3rds of the world’s population. 

Whether wood, seed or stone
They shall deliver
Properties of healing, protection
And most commonly, spiritual practice.

I gift this to you,
So you can intentionally 
Breathe 108 times
With vitality, feeling vibrancy.

Speak a mantra
Drawing you inwards.
Feel the earthly element 
Connecting you to Mother Earth.

Simply put, I wish you
108 blessings,
108 guardians,
108 freed moments 
Each and every day.

May you hold this mala
With the clarity it was made,
With the love it is sent,
And wisdom with which you shall use.

Floral Gifts

Unequivocal beauty

Blooming grace, like a dance 

Drawing riches from the terra 

Your petals defy the science 

Fluttering delicately 

Like wings of the butterfly

Yet with the strength of an army 

You win each battle for my heart

How gloriously you entrance me

Leading back to simplicity of gratitude 

Smiling outside and inward

Warmth of omnipresence made tangible 

Graceful Governance

From the Big Bang 
To global warming,
We are here.

From evolution 
To revolutions,
We fight to be here.

From independences 
To globalization, 
We speak up to be here.

From all things actualized
To their demise and re-emergence,
We continues to be here.

And so here we are
Encapsulating a gratitude,
Denoting a day.

To remember and share
The privileges, gift, abundances gathered
Over the history of mans toil.

All along, the almighty power 
The indestructible,
Which was, is and will be

Sustains, an entire universe
A galaxy 
An ecosystem.

Transferring, transmitting 
Evolving, so life permits
That you and I can be.

Insufficient is then, a mere day of thanks.
Like life,
Let gratitude permeate each moment

Which comes from the deepest understanding, 
Born from accepting our fragility, 
And a graceful governance 

Where the birds and bees, 
Flowers and trees
To man himself, 

Are all held,
Yet free 
To live and be.

Photography by Asvina Brown

Window to Love

Sitting on the sill
Pressed against the pane,
Cool then misted


Clear then obscure.
Convinced my love 
I was waiting for.


Eyes searching
Heart yearning
Feeling empty like a shell.


The rays of light
Giving rise to the rainbow
Bring nature’s embrace by color.


Below my window,
Bees saying hello
Kissing the tips of lavender buds.


Swooning in the late afternoon sky,
Starlings riveting dance 
Spilling the vision of romance.


No latch to keep out 
My love surrounded me 
All whilst sitting on my window sill

Rakshabandan

You arrive and greet
This morning of Rakshabandan.
As always, in full bloom
With unequivocal light and love.

This symbolic yellow rose
Stops me in my tracks
As you, brother, embodied
It’s rich depth and warmth.

Saving me from my sorrow
I see how love transverses all.
Physically no longer side by side
Yet our spirits still unite.

Our bond is clear
My brother dear,
As you remain with and between us,
Your loving sisters.

Today is Rakshabandan, the day of celebrating the bond between a brother and sister. The yellow rose is the symbol, my two sisters and I chose, that represents our departed beloved brother, Dipak.
From an unknowing third party, what should the universe send my way today of all days, but a yellow rose surrounded equally by three buds! What an image of our sibling unity!

The things you never thought that happen to you…

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Basking in the light

You feel the sun

Did you know it comes up

Just for you?

 

Fingers entwined

Palms face to face

Perhaps as you stroll

Maybe just seated together,

That moment, it happened

Just for you!

 

Countless events

The mere length of a breath

A strangers smile

The taste of a pickle

A star streaking across the sky

Did you know they happened

Just for you

 

No premise requires

No transgressions possible

No power can deny

You just need the currency

Of being alive!

 

To know

What really happens in life

Takes no PHD

No millions or billions

No name or fame

 

So wake up to life

Capture this time

As so much is happening

Just for you!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Gift

No bow or ribbon in sight
No crisp enticing wrap
No tag to who or from where
Yet the unimaginable gift lays waiting.

Sometimes its hard to believe
This gift even exists,
That’s because it’s just not recognized,
Not seen for what it is.

Then moments arrive
Your quiet little dream
Or your deep screaming cry
Yield into form.

So what is your gift?
The subject of your dreams?
No my friends
The gift is a power.

The power to connect,
Connect and have relation
To the design within
Who hears all your ‘noise’.

So what when you feel giftless
When life is a mess
When all your efforts go astray
And defeated and alone you feel.

Remember you’re connected
Connected to the Source
And knowingly or unknowingly
We feed in the ‘noise’.

This noise, this input
Entered into the mainframe
Coded, decoded
With only one core instruction.

“Synthesize more of the loudest, most abundant input”

With little understood
This natural law, power, gift,
We misuse labels
‘Miracle’
‘Misfortune’
To explain our realities.

With a little understanding
Acknowledgement, appreciation.
We can come to recognize
That actually, all is our own doing,
Be it our dreams
Or our nightmares!

So beware what you dream for,
Snap out of your nightmares.
Focus and attend to your strengths,
Define your objectives,
And witness the majesty of designs
Create before your eyes.

True Mothers

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Mother Earth
Mother Moon,
Mother Sun.
Mother Earth
You spin and rotate,
At velocity I can’t even fathom
Yet I stand steadfast and grounded.
Mother Moon
With no light of your own,
You care to grasp and reflect
Silver beams for my night to glow.
Mother Sun
You’re a blazing inferno
With constant ignition,
Yet for me
Gentle rays cascade.
With your nature to nurture
Your methods do conjure
My awe, my gratitude.
Yet at times forgetting
The magnitude of this precision
This perfection.
Taking life for granted,
You resort to sending lessons,
Sometimes
Too hard to swallow.
With platonic collisions
Come tsunamis, eruptions.
With meetings of high-low pressures
Dance hurricanes and twisters.
Despite the devastation,
The restructuring,
Over the many milline and Ages
With divine intervention,
The solar system has withstood
Test of time for my here entrance.
With what has been endured,
Allows me my time.
My day in the Sun
My nights with the Moon,
With feet upon this Earth.
True Mothers of life,
I promise to honor,
Respect and obey,
This glorious given life
In your kingdom,
This trifecta Heaven.
Photo curtesy of Kim Vallon posted on Pinterest.