I look in the mirror
And I see this body
With this color
That I am supposed
To give up identifying with
But somehow,
I can’t seem to see
Beyond the brown.

Brown
Like the dust of vraja
Perhaps you will
Place Your lotus feet
Within my heart
And make your home
Within this skin
That so resembles
Your eternal playground.

Brown
Like the peaks of Govardhan,
Perhaps You will place Your hand
Over my life
And lift me up,
Holding me the way you did
The king of mountains.
Giving me the ultimate bliss
Of Your touch.

Brown
Like your wooden venu,
Perhaps you will
Press Your lips to the
Spaces in my soul
And breathe purpose
Into this life
So that I will never
Stop singing Your tune.
Alerting everyone
To your inexhaustible presence.

Like the wish-fulfilling trees of paradise,
Like the cooked down milk sweets You are so fond of,
Like the pots that hold the butter You long to steal,
Like the banks of the sacred rivers where the wise go to seek You

You have colored me
The shade of so many
Of Your favorite things.

I look in the mirror
And I see the color
Of hope
Of service
Of faith
And of love.

I see a soul
A life
An existence
Colored by You.

*This poem is taken from the award winning book Prema Mala.