'To duty alone do you have right,
Never to claim the fruit therewith;
Never do you claim to be its reason
yet, never escape from your duty'
Lord, thy words are breath to my soul
I keep them in my mind, body and heart
Talking to my father oceans apart over phone,
in the wee hours staying awake this morn,
Recollecting from his memory wane
Chanted along as I recited,
'Karmanyeva adhikaras te..'
It was tough for him to repeat,
Enjoyed talking to me although vague
Past the stage of writing journals
Or solving quizzes to stimulate mind,
His mind entangling the nerves,
Breaking the receptors and circuits
Advancing to a full circle of life
He still teaches me the ‘song celestial'
From the lotus lips of the Lord,
Back home in India, The spiritual
Land of ‘work as worship'
- uma pochampally
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poem touches and expresses the sentiments of many immigrants. I derive lot of strength from Geeta.