Hush! Krishna is About to Fall Asleep

Krishna is about to fall asleep, hush!

His lotus eyes now opening,now closing

Long lashes now meeting ,now parting

Rose bud lips now curving in a smile

Hush! Hush! Hush!

Krishna is about to fall asleep.

 

Not so fast, oh, Northern breeze

My baby had a long day today

Blow just right,

Neither too cold,nor too warm,

My little one needs rest.

 

He had much work to do,my Krishna

Pots had to be broken

Butter had to be smeared

Tails of bright-eyed calves

were asking to be pulled

Steps had to be climbed

and plants in the front yard

had to be played with, so hush!

Hush again you naughty breeze!

 

And, over there in the sky, through the

Eastern window, is that you Chitra?

I’ll keep this window open for you

and your other sapphire-star friends.

 

Take turns to see my little one

And behave yourselves!

For, when he opens his eyes, you’ll

find his eyes brighter than the

brightest of you, don’t you dare gasp

It might give my little one a body ache.


Wait, who let you in, you cheeky waft

Of  fragrance?

Didn’t you have

Enough today with Krishna?

You can play with him in the morning

Now, be a good jasmine creeper

Pull your fragrance away

You might hurt his tender nose.

 

“Mother” whispered the jasmine plant

through her soft fragrant waft.

“Mother, I come not to disturb

the little one, but to see you.

 The woman who has penance

enough in  her books,

Who gets to stroke those tiny feet everyday.


I too have a little penance in my book

Mother, today was the best day in

my short jasmine life

For, those little feet touched me!

 

Yes! Krishna kicked me

With his tiny feet!

The very feet the Vedas are Seeking

The touch of which liberates

Man and beast from life’s dream!

 

The touch of which the

Sages are praying for.

Yet, he chose me ,a lowly jasmine creep!

With one kick he showed me

Who I am and who he is!

 

This will do for me, mother

Even if I have to come back

a million times as

plant bird beast or man

This will do.

Glory to you, mother,

Glory to you.

 

As the fragrance of jasmine left

Yashoda fell in to a soft slumber

Which the next day, as a dream,

She’d vaguely remember.

 

Previously posted in  blogspot.

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