Follow Your Heart Poem by C. P. Sharma

People search you in temples
mosques and churches
Sit eyes closed
Meditate
On hill tops,
In caves and forests
Perform ritual in many ways
Pour libations to him
Paint your beauties
In diverse forms and hues
Associate you with musical instruments
Percussion, woodwind, stringed and brass
Read scriptures to know you
But get no clue

But I just bow
And peep within
There sits the Master Painter
Who dyes me in ever new hues
His temple there in rose red color
For Him made in heart shape bower
Right below it the belly shaped fire place
The sacrificial fire is ever present
Accepts oblations of seven sins
My body is His lyre and lute
I, become Lord’s flute
I know not rituals
The conch blows
Gong echoes
One feeling
With Him
Bliss
Bliss
Bliss