The skies engaged in a downpour copious,
Assuming the colour of my dark-hued Lord glorious!
And as tears of joy remained checked in my conscience,
The elements united to remind me of His presence!
A gentle draft so cool and soothing,
Like the call of His flute endearing;
The fragrance of mud wafting in the air,
Chiding me of He who the world in His wide mouth bared!
Drenched as I was twice over:
Once from the rains and at His feet i sought cover;
From a sly corner, His gaze had my heart aflutter!
And lo, His love enthralled me in a merciful shower!
Eight years ago, was when i made my first wish;
The magical eight year old has ruled my heart ever since!
Teasing, chiding, making me dance to His whims;
The Lord who held up the hill, at last granted me a glimpse!
Like a beggar beseeching alms,
There stood this slave with open palms!
Once passed over, once turned away:
I had been in anticipation of He to whose tunes the worlds sway!
Clad as He was in a gracious green;
In moments Srinathji had my heart preened!
Adorned He was with the peacock's plumage;
And to my ailing heart He granted anchorage!
He who is notorious for butter theft:
Oh! How i was tempted to follow His footsteps!
Even of tears these poor eyes are bereft;
A glance, a glimpse; a radiant blur is all that's left!