Bhakti In A Bottle

Bhakti2

Bhakti In A Bottle

It’s a beautiful day
If you want to take a walk with me
I’ll tell you where
Real Bhakti Mojo might be found:

I’m riddled in the golden gate
And silver archway westward bound,
I’m nestled in the brilliant Sun
And furthest star they ever found,
I’m nestled in the smallest crack
In the blackest black
Wherever flowers abound,

Loneliness is a disease;
A disease Jesus remembers,
It hasn’t been classified yet
Because scientists still think it’s an emotion,
But like a cancer,
Sometimes it doesn’t go away,

Not with tough love
Not with kind love
Not with pensive, careful
Sensible love,
Not with dynamite love,

There’s no disease worse than being unloved,
Ask anybody, it spreads,

That’s why Mother Teresa of Calcutta was a Saint,
Because she loved
And gave dignity to those
That had none, and had hope for none,
The disdained, the trod upon, the hopeless, the forgotten,

Jesus remembers that kind of love,

Who knows where love is born
Who knows where it goes,
That it’s here is a mystery,
That it’s here is my soul
That it’s here at all
That it’s the weight the heart can’t barter
That it’s the weight the heart can’t bear
That makes us call triumphant lover,
That makes us say, “Here’s my everything”,

And sing,

Immaculate Mary –
Our Hearts are on fire!

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