Skip to main content

FOR A SONG by Tadiya Dasi



In this poem, I tried to express the things that sometimes happen in my heart…

…when I sit in kirtan, or when I hear the Song of the Lord, the Bhagavad Gita, or other sacred texts being read and discussed, especially when I have the privilege to sit and hear my Guru  - or sometimes even when I hear a very skilled secular singer singing "ordinary" songs with all of their heart and soul. 

This poem is also me trying to articulate my desire to surrender to the song of God being played all the time in this universe, and also admitting that there are parts of me that resist this surrender at the same time.

FOR A SONG

For a moment, for a song
and a sampling of eternity

I had a nest there, in the folds of timeless time
in the heartbeat of the Alive

a place so soft that it felt like a warm welcome after a million goodbyes
a return
a coming to

something profoundly good.
Something so true that it could
offer me an experience of the Real.

The warm lap of a universe
playing its eternal love song

had me there for a song. Sitting safe and warm
and all ears
as
the sound of you embraced me.

For a moment, I was

a wilting flower returning to her roots, taking the risk to bloom
The cold ground beneath me giving in; the hard shell cracking

this winter's finally turning to
something and somewhere else

the coming of you always like a spring!

Though, the warmth of you can be so hard to face
as nothing remains under ground in your season of change

it's such a long way from a bud to a blossom

The notes playing are like ploughs
raking me empty
preparing the soil
there are frozen places in me

parts that still want to
wither in this winter of my own making

I resent my resistance but rest in it, too
been turning for winter for far too long
season after season

it's hard to believe that life can
be born as busily as it dies
that the Alive is as real and more so
than all the dying of this world

something in me knows that you love a garden full of
bloom, so I try to grow for you

I pray for  the gentle wind that moves  one forward

and for the courage to grow that only comes
from the kind of love that leaves no part of you hanging outside

The kind of love that has your back,
and a welcome back
even when you are walking away

the openness of your love is an invitation;
your pastures so vast and beautiful

Just the thought
that one could be and become so free to love
makes me want to journey on

the joy of you
has made me a believer.

Your gospel is a song
and you play it so well

it's been playing on mind ever since, and I hope one day
it plays me

plays me until I am
hard wood bending, an instrument in your hands.

This song is you.
You
with your prying fingers pulling out the longing in me
pulling the broken heart strings
until I am tuned to you realm
of harmony

You have seen my lack of music
the rhythm I have lost
my  desperate need for notes

after all
an orchestra needs a conductor to
play in harmony, with harmony
in uni-verse.

So you have placed me in the hands of a good conductor;
all he ever does is to play your song
even his hands are playing it when he speaks.
All his words a song, all his talk singing.

I came to you all sharp edges and teeth, like a shark
killing to live, dying for some love

just a hard fin(n) peeking through,
submerged in the waters of coming and going
arms up in arms

You just held your arms up to dance
and this is even more telling of you:
you have even the sharks near
allowing them to swim ever so close
circling around your smiling face,
trying to kiss your ears

just one note from the flute
echoes forever

the Sound of you
is kissing my ears

smiling, I think to myself:
Wow,
there's a place where the hills are truly alive
with the sound of music

and I want to go there!

I feel your song
with the focus of a soul
saving herself;
I listen with all of me

and I have this to say about
grace:

it fills you up so suddenly
like a good dessert after a meal

and in the end, there is only the sweetness of being full.

Being consumed by you
leaves
my heart an empty pot
finding joy in being emptied

and the sound of you
leaving me
reminds me
I am here only to be played. If only for a song.


Tadiya dasi is a bhakti yogini who has always loved to write and read. Mostly she has read about religions, both as a student of Religious studies in university as well as a student of the Divine studying the Bhakti-scriptures such as the Bhagavad Gita and the Bhagavata Purana. She writes mostly for her own pleasure, for self-reflection and creativity. Recently, she has begun to give lectures on bhakti yoga. Her favorite place to practice bhakti yoga is in one of her teacher's ashrams, surrounded by beautiful nature and lots of cows. She, though, lives mostly in Helsinki, the capital city of Finland. Her inspiration to write and to share bhakti comes from her teacher Swami Tripurari. You can email Tadiya at tadiyadasi@yahoo.com



~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

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. Ga...

IN THE STILLNESS OF THE NIGHT by Ginny Brannan

 Just take a moment to pause... When life becomes rote, and frustration grows from being immersed in the same routine—different day, sometimes we need to remind ourselves that peace is still there—within our grasp— if we just take a moment to pause and enjoy the stillness and beauty around us. In the Stillness of the Night  by Ginny Brannan Late winter’s eve and all is still the lawn lies bathed in silver light— gray shadows race across the yard and climb atop the windowsill to draw my gaze upon the sight. I stare out to the moonlit night, across the deck and wooded path fresh–painted by new fallen snow. The scene infuses with delight; this gift inside storm’s aftermath. Half–buried now, the old birdbath lies shadowed deep in indigo— it waits on promise of the spring when arctic chill has finally passed and snow gives way to new green grass. With gratitude, I hedge to go; tranquility allays my soul… I turn ...

STILL I RISE by Maya Angelou

Six years ago, I had the privilege of listening to Maya Angelou speak live on the value of poetry at the University of Florida. I share these reflections with you again today, in honor of her birthday.  I was relieved to get one of the last seats available for this rare event, having arrived at five for Maya Angelou ’s free speech at eight. The historically long line began with people settled into beach chairs in winter coats busying themselves on tablets, or eating sandwiches for dinner. As helicopters hovered above and newscasters below, I felt the excitement of realizing that thousands of people were gathering together to hear an eighty four year old black woman recite her poetry! Maya Angelou speaking at University of Florida on Feb. 27, 2013  When the curtain rose -after an overflow of hundreds were sent away- we lucky ones on the inside greeted Maya with a standing ovation, as she smiled sweetly, beginning her talk using metaphors from nature. Maya asked...