Today I would like to share with you a prayer (it’s a poem too, but …) I’ve written in praise of the Divine Mother. It’s actually the second prayer I’ve written to and for her. I shared that first one, called simply, A Prayer to the Divine Mother on the blog previously and you can find it here.
That post will also give you some background to my reverence for the Divine Mother – what she means to me; where my initial devotion comes from; my heart sense that this universal creative energy drives and sustains all creation; and finally how Divine Mother may be worshipped in many and varied (and even no) forms.
The prayer I share with you today – Jai Shree Maa – emerged as I knelt chanting those exact word at the alter of a holy place dedicated to the Divine Mother as revered by many in her form as Our Lady of the Rosary.
It is a temple in that name I sometimes go pilgrimming to for quietness, meditation, and devotion.
Please accept my prayer. Thank you
JAI SHREE MAA
In this temple to the Divine Mother upon my knees and praying. Jai Shree Maa
I chant with sacred love in my heart, sacred words upon my lips. Jai Shree Maa
Divine Mother, with these words, Jai Shree Maa I invoke your holy presence; I speak from my heart to yours.
Have you seen the new page on the blog? It’s called Poems of Devotion (no prizes for guessing what’s on that page).
What you’ll see when you get there!
You are warmly invited to head over there to read and enjoy a poem. Or perhaps two, or seven! The choice is yours.
The page, as you already guessed, seeing right through the extremely obscure title, is dedicated solely to devotional poems I have composed. Many have been written in recent times, though there are some which are, well, no longer the new kids on the block (get it? New kids on the block? New page on the blog? Oh, okay, never mind).
I hope to continue my occasional practice of featuring a poem in a post (perhaps with its story or some other commentary). But, in time, all my devotional poetic pieces will be on the new page.
You are very welcome to visit the page, Poems of Devotion, to read, to contemplate, and if you so wish, copy anything you find there for your own reflections or to share with others.
Love & beauty; What else is there?
I’m grateful that I have come somehow to compose these poems of praise and love. I call it a gift of grace that has been granted me. It is a gift I now ask that I may share with you.
Occasionally, on this blog, I have had the good fortune to be able to share with you a poem I have written.
I say occasionally because, at best, I am an occasional poet – or rather than take on that label, it’s better to say that sometimes words in some kind of poetic form emerge.
From time to time said poetic emergences could be called devotional. Devotional in the sense that my words seek to express praise, recognition, gratitude or similar sentiments, ideas, thoughts, and so on, directed towards those things I regard as sacred.
That might be ‘God’ in the direct sense that we all would understand right away, or it might be the divine as manifested through objects, people, or other beings in the material or non-material world.
Actually, come to think of it now as I make these notes, I realise that according to that not so short definition, most if not all my poetry has been devotional for quite some time now. Yes. I think that’s right.
Anyway, to get this post moving along a bit. A few days ago, I mentioned to my community, ‘I’ like to write devotional poetry.’
‘You do already,’ was the unanimous response. To which I replied, ‘I suppose so, but I want to sing praises.’
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare
And that, my friends, became the title of a poetic effort from me expressing just that exact prayer.
Now I share with you those words that were given me as I ‘just sat’ in our temple.
I WANT TO SING PRAISES
Devotional poetry. That’s what I want to compose. Actually, is there a calling to such composition? Yes, for I do hear the call; it resonates deeply. But, my ego-mind, it’s not listening. Anyway, composing poetry devotional is of the heart; It leaves the mind behind. Looks like one more ‘make the mind your friend’ moment. Praise be all that is.
Today, a poem for your reading and contemplative pleasure. The title of the poem comes references a verse from the Bhagavad Gita in which Lord Krishna talks about what are acceptable offerings: He tells Arjuna that God, or the Divine will accept even a leaf as an offering of devotion.
So, when I returned to the Hermitage one day recently to find two leaves on the ground at the front gate, I recalled that verse and decided to make of those leaves, just such an offering.
Reading the other day about the deeper meanings of the word Amen, a memory surfaced.
A memory from the summer of 1971. I was seventeen years old; young yes. I was hitchhiking around Europe, and as for this memory in particular, I was sitting day by day in the Dam Square in Amsterdam.
The memory of which we are speaking involves chanting. One day (or it could have been more), chanting, along with dozens, perhaps hundreds of hippies, freaks, travellers from all over the world, assorted tourists and locals. Chanting Amen. Just like Sidney Poitier sings in Lilies of the Field. Minus all the verses; we chanted the chorus only. Amen. To help get the vibe, just go here.
Anyway, it was a nice memory, a memory of a day (and more) of music in a time of exploration, on the road and trying to be free.
More that that though: experiencing the memory gave me the feeling that that day, in the Square, had included at least a moment of devotion.
Sure, it was likely just one more tune among many sung during those times, but as I think about it now, I sense a distinct vibe of devotion and praise. I recall a sense of a kind of rejoicing in the word itself – Amen.
Anyway, here is the resulting poem. Do look up the chant; and do please join in, add your voice – your own distinct vibration – to the gathered voices.
Amen
DAYS OF AMSTERDAM CHANTING
Once upon a time I hitchhiked to Holland. Another mad attempted escape, trying to leave the madness behind. Amen.
Crashing in the park in the night, beneath a bridge – when it rained, behind the bushes – when it didn’t. Amen.
Squatting in the Square in the day. Sometimes singing days. Dozens of hippies, freaks, travellers, and even a few tourists and locals. Amen.
Many memories of those days remain. Like this one: I was 17, you see, in those days, squatting in the Square – Dam Square. Music in all directions. Truly surround sound. Guitars, bongos, reedy things like flutes and whistles, even a trumpet I can recall. Amen.
Then, a chant erupts, and soon engulfs the gathered. Amen … Amen … Amen, Amen, Amen.
And, now, I’ve joined the chanting, maracas shaking held high, as if in exalted devotion, as I sway to vibration overwhelming. Amen.
This entrancing word, this creative vibration, how long did it linger, permeating the very air I was breathing? Amen.
Memory informs: it was hours. That is to say, it was eternal – or was it a mere moment? Same. Of course, Amen – Om – the vibration of creation was never born, is never changing, always existent. Amen.
Always creating. Always dissolving. Then again creating. Making manifest that which was unmanifest. Amen.
Or, is it a sound and light show? Amen, the word, the vibration, the sound shining a light on what is there already? And what is there already, is all there is. Amen Amen Amen
Notes from the Hermit's Cave 