Flute Poem by Saroj Padhi

There is a soul inside body's cave
forever blowing the fine, golden flute
that we seldom hear for the great save
as we float on crests of worldly wave;

the enticing trill calls out Gopis of virtues
to swim across Yamuna to court,
but the wistful spirit prefers to rave
of pleasures of body with mushy moat;

the birdie sitting under the leafy boughs
silently chirps on, in tune with the flute
I need to close my eyes and listen to it
and enjoy joys that spring from the root.