Wild golden amber yellow flowering cup,
From which buzzing bees sweet nectar sip.
The bee's an emblem of one's spiritual trip,
The brave effort pilgrim needs to wake up
From sleep, and cease to be a suffering pup,
Sniffing at vain pleasure with his greedy lip,
Licking at each juicy bit. We lose our grip
If ego indulges in such poisoned sup.
Child Krishna loved golden butter's subtle taste,
Churned from fresh milk for healthy nourishment.
If we wish to be free from soul's detriment,
Then we must churn the mind with all due haste,
Using Self Enquiry's rod; God's instrument,
To save us from life's painful punishment!
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