The sound of this flute is not of this earth.
It delights and pains my heart
at the same time, tears flow.
When will it end, where will it all go?
Can the trees and the flowers bear the sound of the flute?
Are the dewdrops tears of joy?
The sound of the flute fills my heart
it must have grown bigger
to contain it all.
Where is my heart and what happened to it?
Krishna has turned it into a pearl
he wears in his nostril Ė to remember me?
How do I remember him? I donít.
He is always there, not in my heart
but in all cells of my body
that pulse to the rhythm of the fluteís melody.
The sound of the flute disturbs my meditation.
My body refuses to stay motionless
my feet want to dance
and the fingers of my hand want to form
lotuses to shower him with.
Hues of light emanate from his body.
Blue has become my favourite colour,
blue sapphires dazzle my eyes.
He is reflected in every facet,
all creation is captured in this light
and even a moment becomes eternity.
Have my sorrows frozen?
My tears dried up?
There is a large empty space
it is all darkness and silence
yet the waves of destiny roll on and on
their sound is crashing over me.
Where am I to go?
What is there to do?
There are no letters written in the sky
no still, small voice in my heart. Yet from this pain
of separation rush waves of new strength.
What have I done? What is my sin?
Why all these trials?
Was my joy, my exuberance unfounded?
Was it all a dream, illusion, unreal?
Where is hope now? I canít give up hope,
I would rather die.
This body and mind is a burden
I really donít want to carry
if it separates me from the Divine.
Other obstacles creeping in again and again.
I am getting numb
exhausted from the struggle.
Maybe love for the Divine is only an idea.
Am I in love with it?
The power of the experience is so real
it is buried deeply in my mind.
This memory tells me otherwise.
It makes my body shiver just to think
of the sweetness of the flute. What is my love?
Sometimes it is all-absorbing, selfish.
Sometimes it does not ask for anything in return.