The Infinte

The Infinte prose poem

Photo by Olin Gilbert

I am called Balaji in Tirumala;
I am called Rama in Bhadrachala;
In Sholapur I am Panduranga;
In all His temples, I am called Naarasimha;
In Mathura I am Govinda;
These but names that called I am;
In wayside temple humble nameless there I am;
In Mosques and Churches and Synagogues there I am;
As Transcendent: neither to history,
nor to myth or mythology,
To time, nor place,
Nor form I belong;
Always there, everywhere;
Tarry not my Devotee;
In the Window of your Mind, see me everywhere;
Doubt not you will know me one day.

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Jayaram Haravu

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I am retired Information Professional. I live in Mysore. My last position was as Senior Manager in an International Agricultural Research Centre called ICRISAT near Hyderabad. I have been consultant to Unesco, FAO, IDRC, Canada and to a few centres in India. I published a book of short stories and poems, titled, Eavesdropping. This was published by Partridge, a Penguin company. I am married; we have a son who lives in the US.
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