Large and oval, shining black,
Is the seed of the sacred lotus.
Yearned to grow the heavenly blooms,
In my garden pond, did I.
A few I didst plant,
In the mud at the bottom,
Some I just put in the water.
I waited and waited, but alas!
Not a single leaf, did soar!
One day, walked in, a dear old friend,
Gazing gloomily at the placid water, found he me!
On knowing, said he,
“Do ye ken that the lotus seed,
Can sleep for thousands of years,
In mud and in water,
Till the bell rings for it to wake!
The wise say that a mere glance,
Of love divine, dost enter a heart,
Full of mud of the world;
It rests there forever, if need be,
Until the time doth come,
When out of its shell, it breaks!
It sprouts, it grows, and flowers,
Into fragrant blooms of love!”
So saying, he took out a seed,
Rubbed its eye, rough and hard,
On the coarse cemented floor, did he.
“Now plant it in the mud,
Or let float in the pond, and see!”
Three days passed, and in wonder, I beheld,
Oh! A little white sprout!
Soon, large and proud, it grew,
Leaves came out, each bigger and thicker,
And in months, the pond was full!
Blooms dispensed of bewitching beauty,
Maddening bees and butterflies alike,
People passing by forgot their troubles,
Touching the flowers, they smiled and said, hi!
Soon, the petals gave way to seeds,
And taking them in my hand,
Realized I, in a flash,
We cringe and run from pain,
Yet a painful rub doth nature give,
To bring out the best in us,
In accepting the pain, we grow,
And growing and blooming,
Smiling and spreading smiles,
In joy, we find ourselves!
Sketches by Girija Giridhar Kini (kitchenarchives.com).
