His Blessing Hand

March 12, 2011

My heart shall sing, my eyes look lovingly

Upon the whispering grass, the soaring spires

Of mountains that approach the feet of God.

The 'Northern Lights' spread their evening fires

Across the calming blue of Krishna's sky.

Morning, the gilt-edged clouds move languidly

As I prepare to greet the lordly sun.

Beneath my feet the crunch of frozen sod

From winter's touch, for spring has just begun

With daffodils beneath the cherry tree.

I have returned from a sacred Eastern land

Aflame within, enfolded by such love

As rarely felt; it seems the touch of God

Descended from a glowing realm above

Has blessed my soul with his blessing hand.