Softly swings the little cradle,
Bathed in dawn's celestial glow.
There lies sweet Bala Gopal,
The Lord the worlds can never know.

Tiny fingers curl so gently,
Lotus feet so soft and fair.
Moonlight seems to kiss His forehead,
Heaven's fragrance fills the air.

Yashoda hums a tender lullaby,
Her loving eyes with wonder shine.
She sees a child she calls her own,
Yet cradles Love that is Divine.

A gentle smile adorns His lips,
As dreams of Vrindavan unfold.
The stars bend low to watch Him sleeping,
Their silent stories left untold.

His little anklets softly whisper,
Like sacred bells at evening prayer.
Every heartbeat sings of mercy,
Every breath removes despair.

The cradle sways... the heart grows still,
Time itself forgets to move.
The universe becomes a mother,
Rocking God with boundless love.

O Baby Krishna, sleep in peace,
Within our hearts forever stay.
Rock the cradle of our souls,
And guide us on Your loving way.

For every tear that life may bring,
Your gentle smile can make it cease.
Sleep, dear Gopal, in love's embrace—
The cradle of the world is peace.

Jai Bala Gopal!

                              --Geethanjali