The old breeze was still fresh
And I turned open the book
Of grateful Sarajubala who was blessed with
A part of Maa as she took
Away the prasaad and a kiss
Offered pranaams, received bliss;
As like a child she would come running
To Maa whenever she would miss.
Jagatjanani was she and
Saraju- a mere simple human,
And love flowed midst them
Like a drop resting upon an ocean
Of kindness, patience and forbearance;
The Divine manifested, a fountain of grace.
But Saraju witnessed her mother ailing
Of diseases may nobody face!
Then I turned the pages further
And the breeze kissed me again,
Mingled with the fragrant incense
And the devotion in me ascends.
The smell of mogras and the marigolds
Transported me to the times old-
When Maa marveled upon a flower crimson
Like the border that her sari beholds!
In a little space she lived
With her magnificence looming large,
Feeding her children with love and care,
Divine compassion continuously discharged
From her soft eyes and lovely form
As love is all she knew.
In love she had adorned
Herself in a yellow sari
That once Saraju gave her, she wore!
She is worshipped, she is loved.
Divine Mother of the universe rests above.
She is the foremost among all
Empathy and grace sprouts from
Her simply sweet and Divine form!
Pranaam to Maa Sharada!
******
(Recently, I came accross a book titled ‘The Gospel of the Holy Mother’. This book has accounts of various devotees who met Maa Sharda, the spiritual consort of Sri Ramakrishna Paramhansa. Sarajubala Devi had received deeksha from Maa Sharada and in this poem, I have included some incidents from her retelling of her interactions with Maa Sharada Devi as per the book. No offense to anyone intended.)
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