Even a Leaf: Another Chapter

Namaste Friends

A little note to begin with

Last January I published a post inspired by a favourite verse from the Bhagavad Gita:

If anyone with love and devotion offers me a leaf, a flower, a fruit, or water, I will accept it.                                                        Bhagavad Gita 9:26

If you like you can read the post here, but I will be including the poem that made up that post in this one which shares the same topic,

Today’s post was in fact written during my more recent hospital stay as a record of a very nice encounter with my Bhagavad Gita and a nurse. I’ll only make changes to tidy it up a bit and to make it clearer for you, the reader.

A ministering angel, in the guise of a nurse happened to notice my beloved little Bhagavad Gita sitting on my bed-side cupboard as she went about her healing duties. Picking it up, pausing to gaze at the image of the Lord on the cover, she then exclaimed excitedly:

‘You love Krishna!’ She was already opening and closing my book at random, with a rapt expression on her face.

‘I do love Krishna,’ I replied, happy to connect with a fellow devotee.

‘O my God,’ she cried even more excitedly, ‘you even have leaf. She held up one of the small leaves I’d slipped between the pages. It was as if she was making of it an offering, just as I had when first putting it there, in remembrance of that verse I love.

I think there are at least half a dozen such leaves offered at various times over the years.

Gently, reverently, she put the leaf back in its pages, closed the book carefully, and replaced it in the exact same position on the bed-side table.

‘I am very glad you love Krishna,’ she smiled as she tuned to leave and headed to serve the next one in need of healing.

love and peace

Paul the Hermit

PS

The poem from last January’s post:

In the Dream The Word Was Written

I dreamed I was drawing an OM symbol. Nothing else, no memory of a dream setting or situation, no other dream characters; only the view – as from my own eyes – of my hand making that sacred mark.

It is quiet during morning prayers today. At one point, after completing one prayer, I turned the page, and began praying the prayer there. Attentively and prayerfully, which is a really nice thing for me to notice because oftentimes I can be a lip level prayer sayer.

As I prayed, I was drawn to the part of that page labelled ‘blank space’. It was at that moment the memory of that dream began to arise.

Instinctively, without thought, I reached for my pen – this pen I now use to make these notes – and inscribed (as that dream memory seemed to demand) the sacred OM in that formerly blank space.

This all transpired as the memory unfolded; really only a matter of a just a few seconds of clock time. But, of course, what meaning is there to ‘clock time’?

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God. And the Word was God. And the Word is God. No beginning. No end.

Om Om Om

PS Thank you John for allowing me to use your words. I know I have paraphrased and modified them a little with my own words, but somehow I don’t think you’d mind.