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In the groves nearby, under the azure sky,
This humble devotee make this fervent cry.
"Krishna, teach me the flute's sweet art,
So I may play for Radha, with all my heart."
With gentle grace, Krishna draws near,
His flute adorned with love so clear.
"Child of mine," he softly says
"Open your soul to the music's ways"
He teaches the notes, each melody pure,
Guiding the seeker in me, making it sure.
"Let your heart be the instrument, pure and true,
And Radha's love will flow through "
With each breath, the flute begins as if sings,
Echoes of devotion, on its wings.
Through fields of marigold, the love unfurls,
As the melody of Radha's name swirls and curls.
So, in the whispers of the evening breeze,
The devotee in me plays, my soul at ease.
Holding Krishna's hand, I find the fruit
To play the flute, and serenade Radha's route.
Image © Arup Ganguly |
