Skip to main content

LESSONS FROM THE GENTLE FLOWER by Jai Gaurangi Devi Dasi

Editor's Note:
“Hoping to blossom into a flower, 
                           every bud sits, holding its soul in its fist.”
 Mahlaqa Bai Chanda (1767-1824)

The ancient Bhakti traditions overflow with poetic flower metaphors that depict the relationships souls have to the Divine. They speak of the core-essence within each of us all composed of the same substance, held in a tight bud, just waiting to us to give it the nourishment it needs for its petals to unfurl. Life wants us to bloom! 

But what does it mean to feel oneself blossoming? In the ancient text, the Bhagavat Purana, a community of women called the Gopis describe this sensation of "blossoming" in beautiful Sanskrit poetry. Their verses unveil a most intimate look into this experience, which has been celebrated and revered for ages. The examples of these women are still central to the Bhakti traditions when revealing the nature of those whose whose hearts overflow with divine love, or Bhakti.

In the spirit of the Gopis, and as an offering to their inspiring lives, women who practice Bhakti today have united their voices in a book dedicated to offering readers a rare glimpse into their blossoming hearts. Released on yesterday's full moon with Golden Dragonfly Press, Bhakti Blossoms is filled  with poems that speak to the bud in you that is aching to burst open! Today we offer you an except from the book, with a wish that all readers find the nourishment their own heart need to fully bloom. 
 
Lotus photography by Lisa Saraswati Devi

Lessons From the Gentle Flower
by Jai Gaurangi Devi Dasi

Oh, how she blooms!
When the dirt around her told her she was but a seed
Destined to remain in darkness,
She battled the seasons until she felt the warmth
Of the encouraging sun upon her back, coaxing her to grow
And so she persevered through the growing pains:
The rainfalls of tears, the scorching trials and tribulations.
She kept faith in those reassuring rays beaming down from above,
Saturating and nourishing her core.
Then one day, she burst through her shell,
And as her petals unfurled,
Revealing her true self to the world,
She found her identity:
She felt free.


Click here to order your own copy. *All proceeds from this project will be donated to diverse non-profit organizations around the world that support and inspire women and girls in their Bhakti yoga practices*
Book cover by Ragu Designs




Jai Gaurangi Devi Dasi: I was born as Jaanki Govindia and raised in the suburbs of London. The seed of devotion was sown in my heart by my dear parents and later nourished by my spiritual master Radhanath Swami. My journey of self-discovery in Bhakti yoga has been greatly influenced by my relationship with poetry and prose. I see writing as an offering of my heart to the world; sharing the expressions of my soul through my pen gives me deep connection to the hearts of others exploring this journey of life alongside me. In the words of the great Mother Teresa, "I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world."





~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

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I AM STILL HERE by Janavi Held

EDITOR'S NOTE:

This was composed by a very gifted and beautiful soul: a regular contributor to our poetry project, and dear friend of mine, Janavi Held, whose life is gradually being taken from us by an incurable illness. She has been suffering from Complex Regional Pain Syndrome and Internal Adhesions for six painful years now, and neither her insurance nor the government healthcare will help her. She reaches out to us, her sisters, as a last plea. This is a poem she wrote yesterday on her birthday, in which she offers us the gift of her friendship. May it touch your generous hearts and inspire you to reach out to her in her plight.


Dear Friends,

The last time I was able to leave the house was by ambulance on my way to the hospital. After many long hours in the emergency room I was admitted and taken upstairs. After everyone left I sat on the hospital bed, knees to chest, bracing my body against the pain and trembling.

The light of this cold day was fading. I turned my eyes to the la…

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 all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Depression
Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…