370 Echoes

Thoughts at a sacred place where children are being taught vedic hymns and in conversation with one of their teachers

I hear the fragrant and melodic echo of the cosmic scene.
It's the voice of a handful of children, whose path lies strewn
With sand, and leaves and flowers and ants... And then
A quiet sweeper comes and clarifies the path for them

Ask, the universe is burning and yearning to give
At the end, you'll find that life has been short and sweet
So, burn on dear friends, offer yourself into the fire
Which burns away impurities and sanctifies the air

That cosmos we find is but mirrored within, we gleam
As we reflect it, in our own imperfect life - filled
With a memory of our own limitless origins
My heart is rapt as it rejoices in endless melodies

So listen carefully and in adoration, for in silence
Dwells the Master who but holds the stars in His palm
That silence so pregnant that it contains the seeds
Of creation... that we oft take for granted amidst the din

I wonder just what purpose that din serves as we go
Hither and thither in our search for the cosmic strain
But know this, at days end the path will seem clear
As we intuit His design as skies lifted above clouds