Sacred Words, Sacred River Poem by Sumita Jetley

In Varanasi's bustling maze,
Where Ganges whispers ancient phrase,
Lived Arjun, guardian of dreams,
In a shop not quite what it seems.

Books lined shelves like sacred texts,
Each a world in a complex context.
But one book stood apart from rest,
A mystic tome, considered best.

---

Meera walked in, her spirit free,
Her eyes like pools of mystery.
Drawn to the book, she felt its call,
A cosmic force that knew no wall.

'Ah, the Book of Mystics here, '
Said Arjun, sensing her sincere.
'It guides your soul, if you allow,
Through cosmic halls and sacred vow.'

---

Meera read, her soul took flight,
Dancing with stars in astral light.
She found the sages, heard their song,
Realized where all souls belong.

Back she came, her eyes ablaze,
Radiating newfound cosmic praise.
Arjun smiled, 'You've found your way,
In each moment, a universe lay.'

---

Books are more than ink and page,
They're mystic realms, a sacred stage.
Just like Ganges, pure and grand,
They take us to a mystic land.