Baba, Your Palms,
Are tender as the melting butter,
Yet the "will" that comes out of it,
Is a clap of thunder.
The link between heaven and earth,
Lies in Thy Divine Hands,
Which has profusely
Blessed all the lands.
In a wave of Your hand,
Vibuthi to heal,
Rings and chains,
Binding our hearts in a deal.
Never ever had passed like this,
Over the sands of time,
Only Your little fingers,
Had brought forth this rhyme.
Lo, Baba on this day I pray,
With folded palms,
That You embrace my soul,
In Your Divine Arms.
~ Raja Sekhar Ganta ~
(From his book "108 Heart Beats")
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