On This Day of Ram Navami
In the golden threads of morning light,
A tale is whispered, bold and bright.
Of dharma's path, of gentle might—
Of Ram, the soul of endless right.
Born not in palaces of pride,
But in hearts where love resides.
He walked through fire, war, and storm,
Yet kept His truth, steadfast and warm.
With bow in hand and eyes so kind,
He taught the world to seek and find
That strength is not in force or fame,
But in the honor of one’s name.
Sita's faith, and Lakshman’s vow,
The forest echoes even now.
Of battles fought and bridges crossed,
And hope restored for all who lost.
So light a lamp, and fold your hands,
Let silence speak where soul stands.
For Ram lives on — not just above,
But in each act of truth and love.
In the golden threads of morning light,
A tale is whispered, bold and bright.
Of dharma's path, of gentle might—
Of Ram, the soul of endless right.
Born not in palaces of pride,
But in hearts where love resides.
He walked through fire, war, and storm,
Yet kept His truth, steadfast and warm.
With bow in hand and eyes so kind,
He taught the world to seek and find
That strength is not in force or fame,
But in the honor of one’s name.
Sita's faith, and Lakshman’s vow,
The forest echoes even now.
Of battles fought and bridges crossed,
And hope restored for all who lost.
So light a lamp, and fold your hands,
Let silence speak where soul stands.
For Ram lives on — not just above,
But in each act of truth and love.
