The Echo
There come the time when the candles burn within,
Krishna pipes the Sound of delicate dragon-fly wings
On summer afternoons you listen in the stillness
Of the diamond sun, catch it and let it run with
You into the evening star that splits the moon.
I want to hold God’s hand, look into his eyes
That pour our the Love of all my yearnings,
Let Him teach me the ways of the Beyond where
Lies my home; comes the echo from Krishna’s
Flute, His Name, the Compassionate One, is Kirpal Singh.
David Teed
Simran
Desiring, the mind becomes a dragon
Breathing anger and laying waste
To all one’s good intentions.
Our thanks for Simran, five times
St. George, which rings round the beast
And will not release him. The greater fire.
Tracy Leddy
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