Readers may want to try the riddle in the first verse of this poem by the Indian Vaishnavite mystic and poet Namdev (1270 – 1350 CE). For more about Namdev, see this earlier post.
The drum with no drumhead beats;
clouds thunder without the monsoon;
rain falls without clouds.
Can anyone guess this riddle?
I have met Ram the beautiful,
and I too have become beautiful.
The philosopher’s stone turns lead into gold;
costly rubies I string with my words and thoughts.
I discovered real love; doubts, fears have left me.
I found comfort in what my guru taught me.
A pitcher will fill when plunged in water,
so Ram is the One in all.
The guru’s heart and the disciple’s heart are one.
Thus has the slave Namdeva perceived Truth.
Translation by NIrmal Dass
Namaste, Sri Namdeva, beloved of Ram, for the riddle and prayers which unclouded our minds so that we, too, may become more true in our hearts’ love and activities on this divine path. Ahhhh….
Jai Ram! Jai!
Bowing to you, Pir Nawab, for bringing us this devototional inspiration.
The spring gees are flying north.
a big gig
in Arizona
I, the drummer
for the band
dancers form circles
while I keep the beat
a Greek celebration
“Opa!” resounding!
joy and laughter
dancers jumping
we play louder
our music expands!
then my beater crashes
through the bass drumhead!
dancers dance
to silence