My Bhakti Heart


My heart belongs to you,

and to no other, ever,

could my love be so true.

Only one river flowing deep,

leading me to be free,

with a focused spot of light,

oh bhakti moon, beating

a heart I thought was mine,

inside of a me that never was.

Your cosmic rain more ancient

than the roaring river Ganga,

a nectar more forgiving than a wave’s

angry swallow of Lord Shiva.

Collect me in a single drop,

extract me from this dry sponge,

in fear it clings and confines.

I am stuck between a rock

that you flow between,

trying to wash away a toil

from the chaos of a busy world.

I live to give, myself to your glory,

my voice, a devotion shined bell

ringing crisp visions, that burn

through the flowered ether,

Ring-ring, ring-ring, ring-ring,

waking up the sleeping,

Hari Om, Hari Om, Hai Om

I sing out loud, a prayer,

resonating vibration, Hari Om,

harmony of a chant, rhythmic mantra

I call out to you, hungry.

I surrender at your feet, tired.

I keep coming back, in tears.

Throat aching, heart pounding,

your grace flowing over the dam

of a busy mind thinking, I see you,

but only when it stops do I feel you,

in a sweet Prasad of silence, washing

through this valley, a skeletal canyon

for your guiding waters to flow free.

~ jeffrey vionito

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