From The Inner Garden

From The Inner Garden

At the grandeur of my garden sight

roses, jasmines and queen of the night

and many flowers of myriad colors

captivating shapes and mesmerizing odors

the longings swelled up within me

“ If the lord with a garland, I can see

beaded with His choicest choice of flowers”

though everything is His nothing is ours.

but as an adoration to my humble devotion

to the supreme master of the entire creation.

To contemplate on His choice

expecting it, through my inner voice

in silence, under a tree of the garden

His preferential choice I meditated upon.

From within came the advice

“: Flowers at the plants render the best service,

plucking of flowers from its plants are barbaric,”

as thus came out many with wise logic

“After all Lord pervades everywhere

hence flower on its stem is His constant wear,

till they wither and fall down

merging with His creation straight from His crown.”

The inner voice added further

to garland Him from my armor

the garden of the world inner

I am its master unlike world outer

whose filths or flowers I create

enjoys or suffers shaping my fate

All my virtues and vices are my flowers and weeds

Foul or fair, divine or devilish, define by my deeds.

Eight of the virtues as flowers for Lord

He loves it, if from my creation I can afford.

Control over my senses makes a man His deer

the thoughts and deeds pf violence, He cannot bear

Forgiveness and keenness to help needy and poor

the mercifulness, truthfulness are close to His hearts’ core.

Through meditation and yogic practices, a man reaches Lord

“Garland Him with these eight flowers if we can afford.

P K Routray

In the service of Lord