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I look vainly, out for serenity
on the San Francisco bay
to Golden gate, pale red laid,
in a foggy mist of grey.

Even glowing bulbs at night
glistening its curvacious sight
are only momentarily bright

much to my dismay.

My poor heavy heart’s gate
is finally thrown open by
whats gushing true, a red hue,
that forever plans to stay.

Awakening me, the creator Sun,
is the very same old one
that on my soul now shines
hope of an early summer day.

Having driven the fog clear then
He himself makes my karmic hay.
And now awake, in my soul’s lake,
are waterlillies of Monet.

– Shiv
2/15/2011

Credit: God, Guru Nanak, Robert Haydn
Inspiration:Waterlillies by Robert Hayden: http://shivsangels.blogspot.com/2011/02/robert-hayden-monets-waterlilies.html

Monet was a famous impressionist painter; one of his famous paintings is “Waterlillies”
Waterlillies are a symbol of pure beauty.
Waterlillies “wake” during the day and apear dead at night.
Karmic is from “karma”
Water lillies stay beautiful despite growing around dirt.

My thinking behind this poem:

This poem is my description of the feeling before and after singing Ekonkar.

I look at the the symbol of freedom, the golden gate bridge, but it is fogged. Even when it has lights decorating it, it is not so beautiful because they do not stay forever. They come and go as night flows into day.

But then Ekonkar enters my heart. It wakes me up! Like the Golden gate its hue is red; but it is alive, it gushes in, it does not get fogged or dark. It has come to stay forever.

The question of karma is thrown out of the window. I don’t need to make ‘karmic’ hay when the sun shines. I don’t need to worry about doing good. Ekonkar handles my karma.

Ekonkar shines on my soul like sunlight first rays. It freshens like an early summer day. Making the lake of my soul beautiful like water lillies that open with the sun. But not any water lillies. These are the waterlillies in Monet’s painting: classic, beautiful, and immortal … just like its creator created them.

True beauty is found residing inside, not the temporary beauty that physically surrounds you.

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