Skip to main content

EVERYTHING RESEMBLES KRISHNA by Hreenka Mg

From the time I wake up in the morning to the time I go back to sleep at night…

… everyday I try to see Lord Krishna in this material nature around us. It is my way of meditating upon the Supreme Lord. This meditation helps me not just to enjoy his beautiful creation but also to fall deeper in love with him.

I wrote this poem as I walked through the nature around us and tried to see Krishna in everything.

 In Bhagavad Gita ( chapter 7 ), Lord Krishna says that in each and every element he is present. I constantly try to visualize this concept to the maximum of my ability.

Meditation helps me visualize my thoughts in the best way. I’ve found that meditating upon the Supreme Lord helps me gain spiritual strength, peace and serenity. Visualizing takes me into a whole new world where I can sense my creativity as though it is happening for real. I am able to feel my emotions towards the Lord even deeper this way. 

I composed this poem to help others visualize and meditate on the beautiful, all-attractive form of The Supreme Lord, or Krishna wherever they are, and in whatever they see in nature.

Everything Resembles Krishna

This material world we see
   is a gift from our God;
In each and every element
   lies the beauty of the Supreme Lord.

The rainbow resembles his smile,
   the radiant sun is his eyes;
Their brightness defeats fear
   and above darkness, helps you rise.

He is called Shyamasundar
   as his body is like the blue sky.
The air that we feel is from his flute
    which makes  you want to fly!

The rain we love to enjoy
   is compared to his tears of separation.
The ocean, his causeless mercy
   to rise above material creation.

The flowers in our garden
   is where his body fragrance dwells;
The lotus resembles his eyes
   that cast many mysterious spells.

The bells we hear around us
   is from anklets on his lotus feet;
The cherries are his red lips
   that tastes like nectar which is very sweet.

The curved paths remind us
   of his beautiful curved waist.
The grass is his silky hair
   his body covered with sandalwood paste.

The mountains resemble his strength
   he is the strongest of the strong!
The shadow of the tree provides his shelter
   under his care is where we belong.

Everything resembles Krishna!
   To attain him is my goal
Meditating on his lovely form
   awaits this long lost soul.



Hreenka Mg: “I am originally from Chennai, India and am currently obtaining my bachelor degree in biomedical engineering. My parents are initiated by Jayapataka Swami, and I am also aspiring for that same shelter. I started writing poems at the age of 16. My inspiration was my mother who is also a wonderful poet. I may not be a great poet but I love writing poetry for the sake of Krishna and his devotee’s pleasure. I wish to continue writing bigger and better ones soon! Besides poetry I have a love for singing and dancing.”





~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~

Comments

  1. hari bol... awesome poem Hreenka.. keep it up.. may Krsna bless you with immense talents and may you come up with more and more awesome poetry for the pleasure of the Lord and the devotees..

    - Arun

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hare Bol mataji.... Woh this is so amazing poem .....looking forward to hear more love ys Kasturika dasi

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

  This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness… Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather

IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor

The inspiration for this poem came after I watched a magical winter sunset and full moonrise from the top of Firle Beacon in the South Downs... Unusually for me, I wrote the poem quite quickly and changed it very little before publishing it – perhaps the energies were working through my pen! Imbolc is the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It’s a fire festival which I particularly love because of its associations with Brigid, the Celtic Mother Goddess of arts and crafts, clear sight, healing, inspiration and nurturance of creative talents – something which, through my writing, I am always trying to connect with.  I also love Imbolc because, with so much darkness and negativity in the world today, it is a time for hope, potential, visioning and initiation. With love and blessings as the light returns. Photography by Chanel Baran IMBOLC    by Caroline Mellor I am the dream of awakening. I am the returning of the night.  I am the tough green

WINTER SOLSTICE: A GIFT OF LOVE by Carolyn Riker

I’ve had several days now of alone time… It is unusual and a gift that I couldn’t see until I breathed it. I have been able to watch the sun’s rise through the grey of dawn and smile at the flickers of frost melting on the waving boughs of evergreen. It’s unique to follow daylight as it traverses the tempo of a cat’s soft slumbering purr. Night comes swifter and the glow of candles and the flames of fire comfort me more than the steady stream of always-doing-more. As much as I resisted, I needed this break. I had no idea how much my body was trying to tell me   slow down   until the exhaustion settled in around my joints. My eyes swam in molasses. Heaviness of I-can’t-hold-out-much-long, walked me to the throne of my nest. It’s winter’s gift of self-nurturing and love. It’s been a quiet proclamation of femininity and a need for comfort foods. Lemon crisps and cranberry, white-chocolate shortbread dipped in tea; I felt a hint of being pampered without