I am a hermit
living in the cave
of my own
mind.
Such a secluded
existence
has it's
advantages.
You become quite
articulate
from listening
all day long
to that voice,
always speaking,
speculating,
contemplating.
However,
it is a lonely
reality.
Why?
Because Krishna
is not
manifest
there.
Why would He
go there?
There is no room
for Him.
I take up too much
space
in my narrow mindedness.
I need to
get out more.
Harinama is
nice.
The cave lights up,
and there are
people, devotees.
From the platform
of engagement
for the spreading of
the holy names of
Krishna,
any dwelling can
be utilized.
Kings can embrace
the peoples
of this world.
Sadhus can
change the hearts
of the wayward.
A hermit
can leave his
cave
and venture into
the villages of
simple folk,
and maybe,
by interacting
with a few souls,
by sharing something,
a longing for Krishna,
his life may be granted
value,
purpose.
And although
the world outside
the cave
is a strange one,
in which a hermit
may feel misplaced,
much because of his
awkward appearance,
speaking in riddles, or
broken sentences,
having spent all those years
in that remote cave,
his heart always dwelling
on the secluded comfort
of the rocky floor
and the moldy walls,
he can even dare
to go beyond,
and leave the cave behind
altogether.
This prospect,
to die and part,
far, far away
from the solace
of the cave,
certainly seems
truly unnatural
for a hermit,
but if it pleases
Krishna and
the spiritual master,
this hermit
hereby pledges his life
to that service.
