Posted by: Ron DuBour | May 6, 2015





What a beautiful place this is!
Ah! What a pleasant breeze blowing here!
Fills my breathing flagon
With anaesthesia of Divine Nectar
Echoing water sound
Flowing round and round
Refreshing splash with the pious flash
Of the Sun and the Moon,
O’ divine Gardener let me come
In this Garden, very soon.
Continuous flow of the melting snow
From high hills around the trees, seems
Mother Nature singing a song with lute
Wise Aura accompanies Her
With leaves, making them flute.
Such magical music makes my senses numb
And I am drinking infinite Bliss
Nature’ enlighten beauty makes me dumb
And unable to define it.
This madrigal psalm makes me dance
Like an innocent fawn
I walk on grassy velvet sheet
Soft greenery sucked my pain
Diamond shining dew pearls,
Are each flower’ smiling teeth,
The unique embroidery mix with pebbles.
Thy neutrality gives me balmy composure
Such soulful cosmic gamut is never heard
Among the cacophonies of material life.
I got up oh! No! A Dream
Alas! Would I make this garden Here.
Is it possible?
How? Why I am asking?
Because the materialist is a product of pious mean!!!
( by Durga Patva)

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