Krishna is about to fall asleep

Krishna is about to fall asleep, hush!
His lotus eyes now opening
Now closing
Long lashes now meeting
Now parting
Rose bud lips curving in a smile
Hush! Hush! hush!
Krishna is about to fall asleep.

Not so fast, oh, northern breeze
My baby had a long day today
Blow just right,
Neither too cold
Nor too warm,
My little one needs rest.

He had much work to do,
My Krishna
Pots had to be broken
Butter had to be smeared
Tails of bright eyed calves
were asking to be pulled
steps had to be climbed
and plants in the front yard
had to be terrorized, so hush!
Hush again you naughty breeze!

And, over there in the sky, through the
Eastern window, is that you Chitra?
I’ll keep this window open for you
and your other sapphire-star friends.
Take turns to see my little one
And behave yourselves!
For, when he opens his eyes, you’ll
find his eyes brighter than the
brightest of you, don’t you dare gasp
It might give my little one a body ache.

Wait, who let you in, you cheeky waft
Of jasmine fragrance?
Didn’t you have
Enough today with Krishna?
You can play with him in the morning
Now, be a good jasmine creeper
Pull your fragrance away
You might hurt his tender nose.

“Mother” whispered the jasmine plant
through her soft fragrant waft.
“mother, I come not to disturb
the little one, but to see you
The woman who has penance
enough in her books,
Who gets to stroke those tiny feet
everyday. I too have
a little penance in my book
Mother, today was the best day in
my short jasmine life
For, those rosy feet touched me!

Yes! Krishna kicked me in the stem
With his tiny feet!
The very feet the Vedas are Seeking
The touch of which liberates
Man and beast from life’s dream!
The touch of which the
Sages are praying for.
Yet, he chose me
A lowly jasmine creep!
With one kick he showed me
Who I am and who he is!

This will do for me, mother
Even if I have to come back
a million times as
plant bird beast or man
This will do.
Glory to you, mother,
Glory to you.


As the fragrance of jasmine left
Yashoda fell in to a soft slumber
Which the next day, as a dream
She’ll remember.
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© Subasri Narendran 2004 All Rights Reserved