Observing the natural scenery of a place of childhood past times.

I have come

here,

the summer house,

a property

of some pride,

an heirloom

from my fathers side,

to do some

practical errands.

By the grace

of my dear aunt,

the property's proprietor,

some devotees

have been staying

here

to attend

a handful of programs

in the local

village.

Now,

come Sunday evening,

I am here

to lock up the house,

to see that

the place

is once again

presentable

to my dear aunt.

(She is particular

about these things.)

After climbing

a rocky pathway

a few times

to load the car,

I take the time

to relish a

moment,

taking in the

beauty of the

natural scenery.

It

is

spectacular.

I must have

spent

at least

twenty summers here.

Now I rarely

visit,

being preoccupied

with the activities of

family life.

The late

autumn evening

envelops all

in darkness.

Some crickets

play

in the dew moistened

grass,

a small creek

gurgles

in solitude.

I am standing

on the veranda,

dark though

it may be,

the familiarity

of this place

enables me

to discern

details.

Fruit trees.

The vast fjord,

surprisingly calm,

as if itself

relishes

the last leg

of warm season's

end.

Scattered islands,

where seagulls

nest.

The marina

in the distance,

a few boats only

at this time,

belonging either

to sturdy enthusiasts,

or lazy peons.

At the end of the pier,

a lone

docking light

shines brightly,

extending

a cubic aura

of pale light

over the water.

I feel sometimes

like that

lonely light;

a soul,

wayward and restless,

desperate to

regain my

composure and

inherent

nature of

devotion to Krishna;

trying to light up

the darkness.

The crickets,

grossly embodied,

may be more

unconscious of

their true nature,

busy with

the urges of

body and instinct.

By the mercy

of Srila Prabhupada

I have a small role

in the sankirtan mission

of Lord Caitanya.

This will be

my saving

grace.

There are

a thousand

excuses

and difficulties

on this path,

yet in

essence,

the philosophy and

practice

is so clear,

that despite

a mental disposition

and many a

material condition,

I persevere

and

continue,

again and

again realizing

the urgent need

for this

wonderful and

very profound

movement,

this ISKCON.

As I walk

back to the car

in the dark,

I pray

to remain

always

in the association

of the devotees,

and to be made

able

to reach out,

if in only a

simple and kindhearted way,

to other

wayward souls,

so that many more

might be given

the opportunity

to go home

back to Godhead.

This is the kind

gift of

the Pancha Tattva,

empowering all small lights

to shine and guide

in the darkness of

this world.