God's Postal Address - Poem by TD. Kumar
A strange query a boy was obsessed,
Listening to Gods Omnipotent's
With infinite love and omniscience
By everyone this attribute were stressed
After a long and sterile search, finally he met a very old sage
'After creating, God the creator lived with his creation
But man would soon find him and pester Him with demands and prayerful petition
God searched everywhere to live 'incognito'- Earth's womb, sky and under oceanic waves
But man would soon hound him out by his superior technology
Diving in the sea, stellar explorers and digging dip in the Earth,
He decided to hide in man's deepest core where he hardly looked as a place of worth
He became abstract and pervaded the creations cosmology
He became one with his creation, in temple, mosque, a particle of sand, a ripple or a star
He, like Brahman and Tao, was everywhere and nowhere
In every form yet formless, difficult for man to detect unless he went inside his own core so near and so far!
Thus the postal address of God is in your heart and soul, with centre everywhere and circumference nowhere'
The boy in his innocence got the sense and mailing address
He could feel God's presence everywhere and in every form.
He didn't have to go through search and stress
Surprisingly, he could also sense deeply God's attribute, abstraction and form.
The wise elders of a disturbed village
Full of conflict, violence and craze
They went to seek the advice
To a nearby hill where meditating, was a Jain sage
Listening to their sad story closed his eyes for a while
Then he said 'A God will reincarnate in your village in a little while
The elders went and waited for a month and found no difference
They came back to the saint and said they could not find the God - incarnates' presence
The saint after closing his eyes said the God has already incarnated
You have to search in everyone where he is located
The elders went and everyone started searching God in each other
Soon the village was transformed with harmony and godly flavor.
Comments about God's Postal Address by TD. Kumar
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You