High ring – low moan
Chanting the sacred mantra
Propelling the spiritual part of us
into oblivion
While the illusion of this material day
Slowly drifts into the now meaningless mire of the material world.

Years go by
Frantic searches for possession of the vanishing things
of earth,
while an oblivion, so staggering, is waiting for those whose good fortune
it is
to be able to comprehend the Consciousness of Krishna.

Giant servant in a land of midgets,
who claim to have freedom.
They are servants of things that vanish before their eyes
Tomorrow, cherished things will vanish
And hands will clap for the magician
And eyes will cry for the loss
Singers' beautiful voices – dry with age
While spirits and God throw thousands of
enlightenments into their path – only
to be over-shadowed by the rain forest of the physical,
the perishable worshipped
while the never ending is ignored

But, there are those who have tasted the
Nectar of Krishna's sweet fruit
And, have lost taste for everything else
For them this world, too, is bliss.

Bhaktajan das Brahmachary (John Kinney)