by Mahatma das

I was shocked, confused, bewildered Goloka
As I entered Goloka’s door;
Not by the beauty of it all,
Nor the light or its decor.

But it was the devotees in Goloka
That I was amazed to see;
I knew them all on the earth
But they had so little bhakti.

There stood my sankirtan leader
The one who stole Krsna’s money twice;
Next to him was my old TP
Who was never ever nice.

Krsna Das, who never preached,
Who seemed so insincere,
Was sitting ecstatically with Krsna,
To whom he seemed so dear.

I asked my guru, “What’s going on?
Of this I don’t know what to make.
How’d all these devotees end up here?
Did someone make a mistake?”

“And why is everyone so quiet,
So somber – give me a clue.”
“Quiet, Prabhu,” he said, “they’re all in shock.
No one thought they’d be seeing you.”


Remember… Just going to a temple doesn’t make you a devotee any more than standing in your garage makes you a car.

And a temple is NOT a museum of saints but a hospital for fallen souls.

Every saint has a past…Every sinner has a future!


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