The following poem is in honour of my dear friend, Baladev, AKA Barry Brown. We traveled as monks in a small party through the United States, experiencing what most people haven’t gone through.
Baladeva / Barry Brown
I know you never knelt at a church’s pew
You were Jewish, then Vaishnava, now a “Hin-jew”
As monks in travel we looked at the bible
Viewed the Old Testament exploring the tribal
On that same motel floor you wrestled with Giri
You lost—he won, leaving you feeling weary
On behalf o
