BUTTERCUP

SONNETS OF EXPERIENCE

BUTTER CUP
Wild winsome golden yellow flowering cup,
From which busy bees sweet nectar sip.
The bee's an emblem of our spiritual trip.
The brave effort pilgrim needs to awaken
From sleep, ceasing to be always shaken,
Sniffing at vainest pleasures with lustful lip,
Licking at each luscious bit. We lose our grip

If ego indulges in each poisonous drip.
Child Krishna cupped and supped 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!