BUTTERCUP

Wild humble golden yellow flowering cup,
From which zealous bees sweet nectar sip.
The bee's an emblem of our spiritual trip.
The work effort pilgrim needs to awaken
From sleep, ceasing to be always shaken,
Sniffing at vain pleasures with greedy lip,
Licking at each juicy bit. We lose our grip
If ego indulges in every poisonous drip.

Child Krishna loved and cupped butter's sweet taste,
Churned from fresh milk for healthy nourishment.
If we wish to be free from soul's direst detriment,
Then we too must churn the mind with all due haste,
Using the great rod of Self Enquiry, God's instrument,
To save us from sad samsara's painful punishment!