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Wednesday, May 17th, 2023

The Annex, Toronto


Madhavendra was a holy man

Definitely not a regular layman

He carried the title of brahmin

Perhaps he can be called a shaman

For when he reached a sacred hill

He felt a very tingling thrill

A trance had overtaken him

A genuine shaking in every limb

After a bath by the lake

He went to take a break

Beneath a tree he went to rest

Somewhere near a high bird’s nest

A young boy suddenly turned up

And woke the monk somewhat

He brought him something hot

It was milk in a rustic clay pot

“I brought you something you need

Something to drink, not to feed

Did I catch you during meditation

Surely no form of intoxication?”

Impressed with what the boy did give

He asked his name, where does he live?

The boy said he helps dad with cows

But that he had to go right now

Madhavendra relished this organic milk so

And wondered if the boy would again show

He caught up on sleep and dreamt

Of the boy who seemed heaven-sent

The boy took him to a bush in the jungle

To get there was a major struggle

“I am buried here, but I’m alive

It’s a wonder that I still survive

Please get me out of this despair

And place me on the hill over there

My name is simple, it’s Gopal

Some say ‘Krishna’ when they call”

Madhavendra believed in the dream

Went to the village to build up a team

They chopped through bush, dug the ground

It was very interesting what they found

It was an exact replica of the boy

Naturally it gave them so much joy

From here they placed him on the hill

Cleansed him as he remained still

People from all around came to see

How lifelike a statue could be

A festival was held with the very best food

It overall changed the town’s attitude

It’s hard to comprehend the bigger plan

Madhavendra had become a busy man

On a restful night came a new dream

Gopal spoke about a challenge and scheme

“I become hot and full of sweat

You know what it’s like getting all wet

I can get relief with pulp of sandalwood

Smeared on me will be cool and good”

Madhavendra had the ambition to go

Far south where such trees do grow

And on the way he came to a town

The name, Remuna, which had renown

It’s famous for a unique condensed milk

Kheer for a deity, it’s sweet, smooth like silk

Madhavendra thought to have a taste

And duplicate the prep for the one he’s embraced

He was shy to ask for a sample indeed

Not wanting to come across with greed

It was the deity who perceived the monk’s wish

And stole for him a pot of the cream dish

Popularity followed him everywhere

Privacy was something he could not share

Fame spread like absolute wildfire

Self-attention was not his desire

After much travel he secured sandalwood

From Puri he carried the load as best he could

This burden of love was keeping him alive

On the return, to Remuna he did arrive

When once again in dream state Gopal spoke

“Please smear sandalwood on the local bloke

That deity and I are one, cut from the same cloth

The only difference is his name – Gopinath

Madhavendra was actually very poor

But rich in seeing a world of grandeur

His view of God – a little boy with charm

Wanting a home, something cool, some cream – no harm

– By Bhaktimarga Swami

The above poem, "The Holy Man and a Pot of Cream," can have an alternate name – "The Story of Kheerchora Gopinatha."

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