Spiritual family meeting of disciples and friends of SDG
The Veterans of Foreign Wars Hall
845 Hudson Avenue
Stuyvesant Falls, New York 12174
There is plenty of parking near the Hall. The facility is just a few minutes’ walk from SDG’s home at 909 Albany Ave.
“I request as many devotees as possible to attend so we can feel the family spirit strongly. I become very satisfied when we are all gathered together.”
“Therefore, our Society is association. If we keep good association, then we don’t touch the darkness. What is the association? There is a song, sat-saṅga chāḍi’ kainu asate vilāsa, te-kāraṇe lāgila mora karma-bandha-phāṅsa (Gaurā Pahū, verse 3). Sat-saṅga. Sat-saṅga means association with the devotees. So the one poet, Vaiṣṇava poet, is regretting that, ‘I did not keep association with the devotees, and I wanted to enjoy life with the nondevotees. Therefore I’m being entangled in the fruitive activities.’ Karma bandha phāṅsa. Entanglement.”
[Conversation with David Wynne, July 9, 1973, London]
“Hari Hari! . . . .
“The magic injection seems to be working—no migraines this week, but still quite a few regular headaches. These are sill debilitating, forcing him into bed with Excedrin or ibuprofen and waiting it out. Satsvarupa Maharaja then feels fragile and can only do japa and maybe a few other things for twenty minutes or so, then rest again. He’s not writing until after Vyasa-puja on December 2nd, and can only read a page at a time from a letter or a book. In this way he’s saving himself for the grand event. Nevertheless he pushes on in any free moment in an exemplary way.
“I used the word ‘suffering’ last week, which raised eyebrows, even though meant in a general way. Satsvarupa Maharaja confirmed that he is not ‘suffering’ but is sometimes frustrated with the condition of his body.
The “News Items” section of Free Write Journal has been temporarily suspended while Guru Maharaja recuperates.
My father used to ask me, and so I ask myself again, “What do you want from life?” I answer in the same näive, hopeful way with what’s in my heart: “I would like to break through in japa and be soaked in tears. To change, permanently. No more duality of the mind preoccupied with other things while I chant. I want my japa to be in Vraja for Sri-Sri Radha and Krsna.”
“How bad do you want that?”
“Like hell, Sir.”
Monks in past centuries may have lived on those rocks eating seaweed. I laugh at them, how they performed such severe austerities so unnecessarily. One should become a devotee of Krsna. But there are austerities here too. Laugh at the seals and the Pope, at the sheep and the rocks. Cry for the beauty of the sea crashing blue-like-pure-glass, breaking surf. Cry for those who must die and the evening descending.
Cry to be released.
I certainly wouldn’t want to be a child watching TV all day, or anyone watching the news straight from high-tech video relay teams with correspondents and talking faces in Washington D.C. “This is Jane Meadows, from Washington.” “This is Scrub Donuls, from Istanbul.” You know how they come on, standing in the heat in a shirt unbuttoned at the neck in Africa, or standing, their breath coming in frosty puffs and their heads covered in fur hoods, in Moscow. They start rapping about what the big news is—”Premier Yeltsin’s opponents are going for blood in the latest round of political infighting to rocket the former Soviet Union head . . . blah, blah, blah . . . only time will tell. This is Flip Furrows in Moscow.”
Then you’re back to the anchor people in your living room in Boston or New York or wherever. You are trapped and entertained, and the web of false news (with commercials) is wrapped around your head and the heads of your children like a cocoon around a silkworm.
Stay tuned to Friendly Freckles. Don’t forget Death and the March of Time. And here’s the latest weather. Then a jovial weather man tells you what’s going on with fronts and masses of clouds, as if you really want to know how the weather is 2,000 miles away. But you listen, because he appears to be in control since he has predicted everything.
Stay tuned to “The Chamber of Horrors.” “Winkles the Pet Chimpanzee,” 9:00 o’clock tonight. Stay tuned to see the U.S. Army dropping bombs.
Hey, turn off that set. Turn it off.
But you can’t turn it off. Once you’ve seen the soccer ball or the football being kicked up and down a field and the guys in blue scoring and then embracing in utmost serious affectionate camaraderie, once you’ve seen it, even if you go to Dingle Bay to a house that the wind buffets and where no one comes to bother you, those flickering images will return.
This is it. This is our problem. This is why we can’t chant. Because an Amtrak train smashed a flammable truck, and when the camera crew got there all they could film was the remains of the burning truck—the train was already gone so they filmed any old Amtrak car moving in the snow—and “This is Burt Billson in Maryland.”
Turn off that set.
Wish we could. We can’t call someone in to fix the stuck switch in our heads, like a plumber to unclog the pipes. Frankly, there’s no way to make the world void of inane images. That’s the kind of place it is.
The only remedy is to turn to Krsna. Live in Krsna consciousness.
But my time is limited, both here and in this life. I hanker for more direct rasa.
Raghunatha dasa Gosvami is a better teacher. Raghunatha dasa, Rupa and Sanatana, Jiva, Visvanatha Cakravarti, Bhaktivinoda Thakura, Narottama dasa, Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, my own Srila Prabhupada—all are residents of eternal Vraja. Krsna conscious aspirations are carried out by thinking of these persons. They are my gurus.
These two trees remind me of Gaura-Nitai with Their arms upraised. These trees are being punished—it’s not easy to endure winter outdoors. Still, we concentrate on seeing Krsna everywhere.
“A person in Krsna consciousness certainly sees Lord Krsna everywhere, and he sees everything in Krsna. Such a person may appear to see all separate manifestations of the material nature, but in each and every instance he is conscious of Krsna, because everything is a manifestation of Krsna’s energy.” (Bg. 6.30)
What does this mean to us? The smaller branches of these trees are stripped to the bone for winter, although inside they endure. The soul is protected and resistant to the cold. The trees are gnarled, the bark thick-grained, waiting for the warmth of spring, waiting to relax.
Devotees are haunted by visions of the Lord. We are not worthy, but we do not miss a chance to see Him in a tree, or to see this tree as a kalpa-vrksa tree in Vrndavana—whatever induces remembrance. Either that or we pray for the trees and for our own deliverance.
A diary is a place of honesty. I have been too afraid to tell my dreams, afraid my whispers would wake up our caravan driver in the middle of the night, or God would judge me a nonsense for recording dreams of no account.
Last night I dreamt I was in charge (at New Year’s Eve midnight) of starting many cooking fires in a place that looked like a train station from my boyhood. I started various fires, but couldn’t get any one of them going enough to cook on. I was waiting for help. I noticed a motorhome go by. I could tell people were living in it and hiding. It was a serviceable vehicle. I wished them well as long as they kept traveling. I kept trying to build fires, but got nowhere.
Dreams churn up the creative voice. I like to stoke their fires. I use old newspapers I find in the streets, but still, not all my dreams have cheery flames or heat. I can’t cook on them.
Someone asked me, “You speak of self-realization. Do you mean the awareness that we are eternal spirit soul and that we have a rasa with Krsna, or do you mean the awareness of capacities in our conditioned state?” I mean both. Theoretically, we could jump at once to our transcendental identity, but most of us need to go through many steps.
And so, my pen, wish me well. May we not be detained at any borders or attacked at any P-stops. May our Goodyear tires have a good year. May we fly straight like an eagle. Adventures are sure to be ahead. I am not asking to be transported from one to another, cushioned by crossing a thousand miles without noticing, but I pray to use my time well. One doesn’t know how long this fragile and corrupt infrastructure (this combination of dependent, mayic functions that keeps civilization running and us moving along in it) will last before it collapses. I have been fortunate not to be subject to terrible miseries. Why? I don’t know. All I know is that I have had the chance to use my life in relative peace (so far) to achieve a higher end. If you get a respite from intense disorder and suffering and you don’t use it intelligently, then it’s worse than waste and will be taken from you.
The real hunger in this world is not for food, but for soul life. Make joyful progress, spirit soul, in the times that are given to you. Krsna is your guide.
When Lord Caitanya came to our village, my husband was away. To me, that meant I should give my husband whatever benefit I received from the Lord’s darsana. That is one service I feel Lord Caitanya gave me. Another service He gave me is the seva of Radha-Gopinatha, which began as a result of His visit. And the chanting of His names, which has waned in me somewhat . . . I pray to rectify.
May the Lord bless us all with a drop of krsna-sakti. We should not expect to be relieved of all further efforts, but pray for strength to serve Him in devotion day and night.
Harideva told me his hope. He desires that Lord Caitanya will bless him to continue the traveling harinama party. For two years now, he has done nagar-sankirtana everyday. Sometimes he stops in our village for a few weeks, and sometimes he travels for a few weeks. He has a group of dedicated young devotees with him, and he is their personal guide. I am happy for him and satisfied personally that he is guiding me and encouraging me. Let us pray for the mercy of Lord Gauranga. If He approves, may He please allow us to continue serving Him in these ways. There is no need to ask for new boons. But we have much work to do to improve the quality of what we are doing. Pray for humility as found in His intimate associates.
Today we walked twenty miles; at night we spoke of Lord Caitanya’s pastimes.
O Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu, You are a merciful sannyasi who delivers the holy names without distinction to all people. You know everyone is lost in this world unless they take shelter of Krsna. You kindly deliver them. Your intimate devotees know that You are Lord Krsna come in the form of His pure devotee. Please bless us. Please do not omit us from Your mercy. We think we have to cry out so that You will notice us, but I am shy and reluctant to do so. Yet I do not want to stay in this world. Please allow us all to approach You.
I hope it is not an offense that Radha-Gopinatha stay in different places each night. So far They have arranged for us to find decent places, protected and clean, for putting Them to rest at night. I trust this will continue. I have heard that sometimes liberated devotees become intimate with Their Krsna murti. The murti orders them: “Offer Me better food please.” But the liberated devotee replies, “I am an old mendicant. I cannot arrange anything better. First You ask me for a little salt on Your capatis, but next You will be asking for sweets every day. I cannot supply them. Please, therefore, be satisfied with whatever I offer You.”
If I were to say these things to Radha-Gopinatha, it would be blasphemous. I cannot love Them so spontaneously. Radha-Gopinatha are the most intimate forms of Godhead, but we cannot worship Them negligently. They are the King and Queen. They have agreed to make this journey, but it is our service to make Them as comfortable as possible. Let there be no delays in Their offerings, no bumps in the road, no lack of cooked foods, no lack of sweet water.
The intimate devotees of Lord Caitanya do not worry about their own bodies, they simply sing and dance.
We have heard of the great Gosvamis who live near Lord Caitanya. One is named Raghunatha dasa Gosvami, and he eats very little.
O Krsna, help this poor woman to be free of bodily concentration. She wants to stop every hour to rest. They say, “Mother, ride on the cart if you are tired.” I accept their invitation, but I cannot help but think of all the people older than me who are walking steadily. So I climb down and walk again. But my mind does not let up.
My Dear Satsvarupa,
Please accept my blessings. I beg to acknowledge receipt of your letter dated 4 January, 1970 along with the newspaper cuttings and I have enjoyed the article with nice pictures. If you go on with your work sincerely, by following the footsteps of our predecessors, certainly our movement will be recognized by the people in general.
Recently, I have received a copy of one letter issued by the draft board recognizing our society as religious. So this means that both the public and government are gradually appreciating our position, and there is no doubt about it, if our motives are sincere, they will do it more and more. Now our immediate duty is that all our Society members are strictly following the rules and regulations and chanting routine. That will make them steady and strong in their positions respectively.
I want to see that all my disciples are engaged 24 hours in the service of the Lord. If one is engaged full time in the service of the Lord, under my direction, that is my personal service.
Your ever well-wisher,
A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami
I don’t remember which newspaper clippings we sent Srila Prabhupada, but perhaps it was the article written by Francine Daner, an anthropologist who often visited the temple. Eventually she wrote a book called The American Children of Krishna. In the late ‘60s and ‘70s, a variety of people visited the devotees in order to study and write about them. Many of them were friendly, and we developed relationships with them. Whatever Prabhupada was given, the important point is his statement that “If you go on with your work sincerely, by following the footsteps of our predecessors, certainly our movement will be recognized by the people in general.”
This statement made a deep impression on me. We never thought of Prabhupada’s statements as trite; we took him literally. Whatever he said motivated and directed us. Prabhupada was deeply immersed in preaching, and he was in touch with Krsna. His words encouraged us to become missionaries on his behalf. Assurances such as this one stating that our movement would be recognized by the dominant culture infected us with enthusiasm.
It may be difficult for devotees joining in the late ‘90s or thereafter to understand the intense missionary spirit Prabhupada both exemplified and expected of his disciples. We lived austerely and had very little money with which to maintain temples, print books, or spread Krsna consciousness. But we were preachers—all of us. We were caught up in Prabhupada’s enthusiasm to make Krsna a household name. We went out in all weather to distribute magazines and books, to hold harinama, and to try to raise money. In one sense, those things were a lot more difficult to accomplish than they are now, yet in another sense they were easier: we had Prabhupada physically present to encourage and guide us, and especially to apply the necessary pressure. Who can describe the hope we felt in those days?
Of course, we weren’t pure followers, and consequently, as a movement we have had to struggle with schisms and differences, falldowns and disillusionment. Neither have we received large-scale recognition from the American government or any other Western government. Still, we should not discount what Prabhupada said in this letter, and we can understand from it that as we purify ourselves and our movement, we can hope in the future to attract the recognition and acceptance of others by our sincerity.
Here Prabhupada defines what it means to follow purely: whatever we do in Krsna consciousness should be done according to the rules and regulations and according to the philosophy taught by the Six Gosvamis and Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura. In order to know how to apply such philosophy, we have to hear from our current link in the disciplic chain. Following the predecessor acaryas for us means strictly following Srila Prabhupada. Srila Prabhupada instructed us to chant and hear, to worship and study, to preach and follow the regulative principles. None of this was his own concoction; rather, his instructions paralleled those given to him by his own Guru Maharaja. At that time, none of us knew anything about our predecessor acaryas beyond what our own Srila Prabhupada had told us, but we had faith that he represented them and that he hadn’t come to the West—to us—as an independent agent. We knew he was teaching the same philosophy Narada Muni had taught because we could read it for ourselves in the Bhagavatam. We trusted Prabhupada implicitly.
Prabhupada mentions the draft board. I was not personally worried about the draft—I had already served my time both in the Naval Reserves and aboard the U.S.S. Saratoga—but other devotees were concerned. The United States president was sending more and more troops to fight in Vietnam. The Vietnam War was an unpopular war, and many young people, especially students, were demonstrating against it both by holding rallies and by dodging the draft. Those who became devotees were no longer involved in active demonstrations against the war, but they were not exempt from the draft. Those who were drafted were selected at random, and any male who had had his eighteenth birthday and was under twenty-six was automatically eligible. There were societal checks to ensure that young men registered for the draft, which they were required to do within two weeks of their eighteenth birthday. If a young man went to a bar, he had to show proof of age before being served. The only proof accepted was a draft card. It was also impossible to obtain a driver’s license without a draft card. College students could be drafted as soon as they had finished their undergraduate undergraduate degrees. Those who were selected received notice to appear before a board to be assessed physically and mentally for service. Many students burned their draft cards, risking imprisonment, and others fled the country to Canada. The Vietnam War fueled the counterculture and divided the country.
When the devotees received their draft notices, they chose different paths of action. Some pretended they were insane when they went before the board; others fled to Canada (Acyutananda went to India). In the meantime, Prabhupada was trying to obtain ministerial status for his disciples, and in this letter we see that he had been successful. Here Prabhupada states that the draft authorities had studied our credentials in Los Angeles and had written a significant acknowledgement of our movement. This pleased Prabhupada because it meant that the United States government accepted ISKCON as a bona fide religion.
Although we would never have admitted it publicly, the devotees often invited young men to join the movement to avoid the draft. Of course, we immediately realized that draft dodgers were not necessarily devotees, and we gradually instituted a system by which we could test candidates’ interest in the Krsna consciousness philosophy.
By Krsna’s grace, I am writing this from outside prison. It has been two days since I escaped. In some ways, the present situation is just as intense and oppressive as prison. So I am noting it down—what has happened and what I am supposed to do now.
Indrajit came in the middle of the night to my cell. He said he wanted to run away from home and join Prahlada’s classmates. He had the guard’s keys to free me. As quickly as that, I was out of my cell. I asked him if we could free Tridandi also, so we went to his cell. At first, Tridandi shrugged and waved a bony hand at us, but we convinced him that he might be killed here and that he could practice his bhajana better elsewhere. While discussing this, we almost got caught. The night guard walked over our way and we quickly hid in Tridandi’s cell. The guard flashed his torch into the cell, but saw only old Tridandi sitting erect in his lotus asana.
“Damn fool, be quiet,” the guard said. “No talkin’ out loud.”
When the guard passed, the three of us ran out into the night, past all the walls and into the city lanes.
“I’m heading for the mountains,” said Tridandi. “I want to pray for the appearance of the Lord.” I stopped for a second to watch the thin form of my yogi friend disappear into the darkness, then turned to face Indrajit.
I wanted to see my family. “Indrajit, come with me,” I said. “We’ll find a safe place for you.”
So I went home and woke up Daityaji and my wife. It was a wonderful reunion, but I couldn’t stay there more than a few minutes. As soon as the police discovered me missing, they would come to my house. Daityaji said he knew a place where I could hide. So here I am. It’s above a baker’s shop. All over the country, Vaisnavas are in hiding. Some are in caves and some, like me, are in attics or basement cubbyholes. There is a network of sympathizers giving shelter to persecuted devotees. But the police keep looking, and sometimes finding.
The baker is keeping me here at great risk to himself. I hate to put him into jeopardy. I have to be even quieter than in my cell. My japa is strictly silent. I can’t even cough during the day or walk on the floorboards.
But I can read again. The Vaisnava scriptures are here. And I am in touch with the world.
The biggest immediate problem is Indrajit.
I wanted to be a devotee and Krsna is giving me the chance.
Almost as soon as I arrived here I began to write. I don’t mean this narration about myself. I have started to write an essay proving that the Supreme Lord is equal to everyone. This is one of the arguments the demons use somewhat persuasively over fellow asuras. They say that Visnu is partial to the demigods, and so He is not supreme. With the scriptures available for reference, I am able to make cogent arguments against this demoniac interpretation and express it in my people’s daily language. I can’t wait to talk with Daityaji about the possibility of getting an essay printed secretly and distributing it among the raksasas. It’s a way for me to render service and to preach. Otherwise, what good is my training in reading and writing, unless I can use it for devotional service?
Japa and prayer are potent, and sometimes we shy away from them thinking, “They will bring me too quickly into Krsna’s presence, and He will force me to surrender.”
On the surface, this fear seems laughable, but for some, it is quite real. I already like the service I’m doing for Krsna; in fact, I love it. But what if He wants me to change and do something else? If I pray to Krsna to teach me His way, I may be forced to renounce more than I want to. In fact, Lord Krsna states that if a devotee serves Him sincerely but still retains material ambitions, Krsna’s first mercy on him is to crush him,” and thus the wretched fellow has no one to turn to but Me.” A statement like this may enforce the fears of surrendering to surrender as something too harsh. But Lord Krsna further states that He will replace the material attachments with “the taste of My lotus feet.” In other words, Krsna will make us supremely happy if we surrender to Him, even if in the beginning we are a bit panicky about losing our material attachments.
They cannot find any time to chant and hear about Krsna. This problem persists, even after one develops a desire for spiritual life. We have so many things to do just to survive, and sometimes we think we have to sacrifice japa and prayer as mere luxuries. Here again a balance is required, but we owe it to ourselves not to be forced into a situation where we find “no time” for basic, daily devotions.
One may claim, “I never took a vow to pray. I vowed to chant sixteen rounds and follow the four rules, that’s all.” And yet the scriptures state that all the regulative principles are meant to serve the one basic principle—always remember Krsna.
Prayer means a spiritual state of consciousness—Krsna consciousness. How can you do without it? We are always conscious, no matter how busy we are with duties for survival. Lord Krsna doesn’t ask us to.abandon all duties, but to think of Him. “Think of Me and fight.” And that “think of Me” means prayerful consciousness, “Krsna, please help me.” As long as we are alive, we have time—although our time is running out. It is up to us to find the ways and means to think of Krsna and not claim there is no time.
A subdivision of “no time” is “I’m too fallen to think of Krsna. This implies that prayer is for monks or pure devotees only. But this is not a fact. Prayer is very suitable for everyone, including the most fallen. When they met Lord Caitanya, Dabira Khasa and Sakara Mallika prayed like this:
“Sir, we belong to the lowest class of men, and our associates and employment are also of the lowest type. Therefore we cannot introduce ourselves to You. We feel very much ashamed, standing here before You.
“Dear Lord, let us inform you that no one is more sinful than us, nor is there any offender like us. Even if we wanted to mention our sinful activities, we would immediately become ashamed. And what to speak of giving them up!”
—Cc. Madhya 1.189-190
“We are very depressed at being unfit candidates for Your mercy. Yet since we have heard of Your transcendental quali¬ties, we are very much attracted to You.
“Indeed, we are like a dwarf who wants to capture the moon. Although we are completely unfit, a desire to receive Your mercy is awakening within our minds.”
—Cc. Madhya 1.204-205
Many other difficulties could be mentioned, since the material world is infinitely complex and the material mind is also. But all difficulties can be overcome by the grace of Krsna. Krsnadasa Kaviraja states that difficult things will become easy if we think of Lord Caitanya. By the mercy of the spiritual master, a lame man can cross mountains. As Lord Krsna states, “If you become conscious of Me, you will pass over all the obstacles of conditioned life by My grace. If, however, you do not work in such consciousness but act through false ego, not hearing Me, you will be lost.” (Bg. 18.58)
They played together some measures they had
invented. I won’t throw out my pal.
I haven’t reached the stage where I
can give away all my belongings
and lie naked with kaupina and sunken belly.
That day may come. I will
be a better devotee. It will
be my prayer and work on
my low self-esteem, my sissy
qualities. Stand up and take it,
He saw all the crabs and
wanted to kill them, so he went for it.
But that kind of anger will
not help anyone, especially the
He’ll have to suffer more for every one
he smashes in his ire.
Oh! Oh! Haribols are
pouring in from the boys on the street,
they got a chance to
share the stage with the big rock stars
and even Sir Paul comes and goes.
“Thank the Hare Krsnas for attending.”
We know they always want to proselytize
and then they hang on
like crabs. But it’s a good thing
They’re going to do three-dimensional
Panca-tattva. I am so cynical
he thought I was blaspheming but
I was just being myself.
They know me by
now in my Tommy Sport
pants and Adidas
and I wave to the trucks and cars that pass
and I stand on
the bridge and look down at
the water spurging down from
They are anxious undoubtedly
and black and have those blues
and bloodroots but
from there they reach up to heaven
and God. That’s one way,
just as Handel’s “Messiah” is another.
I’m listening and trying to decide
what I really like. It seems
I do like the cacophony. It suits
me. I’ve come a long way.
Come up, come up, do
the job of putting away Deities to rest.
I’m writing this so you can retire Them.
We work as a team. Don’t forget to do it that way.
I am for Krsna and you too—we’re
buddies. I won’t kick
you out for overspending money.
Don’t get depressed. Krsna is
in control anyway, so why
should I be anxious?
This collection of Satsvarūpa dāsa Goswami’s writings is comprised of essays that were originally published in Back to Godhead magazine between 1966 and 1978, and compiled in 1979 by Gita Nagari Press as the volume A Handbook for Kṛṣṇa Consciousness.
This second volume of Satsvarūpa dāsa Goswami’s Back to Godhead essays encompasses the last 11 years of his 20-year tenure as Editor-in-Chief of Back to Godhead magazine. The essays in this book consist mostly of SDG’s ‘Notes from the Editor’ column, which was typically featured towards the end of each issue starting in 1978 and running until Mahārāja retired from his duties as editor in 1989.
This collection of Satsvarupa dasa Goswami’s writings is comprised of essays that were originally published in Back to Godhead magazine between 1991 and 2002, picking up where Volume 2 leaves off. The volume is supplemented by essays about devotional service from issues of Satsvarupa dasa Goswami’s magazine, Among Friends, published in the 1990s.
Writing Sessions at Castlegregory, Ireland, 1993Start slowly, start fastly, offer your obeisances to your spiritual master, His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. You just drew his picture with your pencils. He appears carved out of wood…
I found I had hit a stride in my search for theme in writing, then began to feel the structure limiting me. After all, I had given myself precious time to write full-time; I wanted to enter the experience as fully as possible. For me, this means free-writing—writing sessions with no predetermined shape, theme, or topic…
This volume is comprised of three parts: prose meditations, free-writes, and poems each of which will be discussed in turn. As an introduction, a brief essay by the author, On Genre, has also been included to provide contextual coordinates for the writing which follows…
A comprehensive retrospective of poetic achievement and prose meditations, using a new trajectory described as “free-writing”. This volume will offer to readers an experience of the creativity versatility which is a hallmark of this author’s writing.
Stream of consciousness poetry that moves with the shifting shapes and colors characteristic of a kaleidoscope itself around the themes of authenticity. This is a book will transport you to the far reaches of the author’s heart and soul in daring ways and will move you to experience your own inner kaleidoscope.
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expression.The reader is invited to discover his or her own spiritual pilgrimage within these pages as the author pushes every literary boundary to boldly create something wholly new and inspiring.