The Flute's Endeavour

Taking up a task so far beyond one's powers,

The flute pressed on to the

Lotus lips of The Lord,

Determined to play the music of love,

Meandering through the landscape of life.

Like the impossible task of Arjuna

Of trying to comprehend,

The essence of The Geeta!

Each time confused,

He pleads for the one simplified way to the truth,

Only to find himself,

Perplexed even more,

After an elaborate Song of The Lord, 

Propounding the mystery of life,

In reply.

The little flute of reed,

Being carried over hills and dales,

O Lord, held in thy palm,

Breath thou, through it,

Melodies eternal and new.

Like a fountain of love,

Mingling with the beloved,

In the embrace of lust and love divine.

At the immortal touch of thine,

The little flute of reed,

Loses all it's limits in joy,

Gives birth to the tune ineffable.

Through the hollowness of 

The ordinary flute of reed,

Pours the never ending nectar of love,

Heard by creation,

As that potent song of Union,

Of the flute, and The Lord.

Ages pass,

And still Thou pourest,

And still there is room to fill.

Like that eternal love making,

Of Simoni and his Love,

The never ending craving,

Enhanced and sanctified by the ever youthful,

Thrust of enlivening love.

_____________________________________________

 Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar