Here is a very moving passage from the Brihad-Bhagavatamrta Vol.III by Sanatana Goswami as translated by H.G Gopiparanadhana prabhu. This is where Gopa Kumara meets the Lord of his heart, Sri Krishna, in Goloka Vrindavan – submitted by Mukunda Charan das
‘In this way I moved here and there, anxiously questioning each person I met. And as I made my way forward, I came to the pasturing grounds of the cowherds. Looking around in all directions, I spotted in the distance a town adorned with the essence of all sweetness. On one side of that town, all about I heard wonderful songs, sung by cowherd women, and the charming sound of the churning of butter, and the jingling of bangles.
Trying to subdue my agitated joy, I walked forward and came across a seated elderly gentleman, sobbing profusely, incessantly chanting, “Krsna! Krsna!” With some skillful effort I made him speak, and I heard him say, in a choked voice, that this town belonged to Nanda, the king of the cowherds, Sri Krsna’s father. As soon as I heard those words I fainted, overcome with delight.
After a moment that compassionate old man revived me, and I ran ahead and approached a gateway of the town and sat there in the gate. And there I saw, by the hundreds and thousands and tens of millions, all sorts of wonders, unseen, unheard of, unimaginable by anyone of this world. O best of the brahmanas, I couldn’t discern whether the people there were all enjoying the highest bliss or suffering in the grip of terrible misery. I heard the gopis’ songs, coupled with their crying, but were they songs of the greatest contentment or the greatest sorrow? I couldn’t tell. A person seeing that place might think he was in the material world. But by carefully reflecting on whatever he had seen before, he would understand he was now somewhere above all material planets, all higher nonplanetary regions, and all the transcendental realms of the spiritual world.
Then an elderly lady came by. I bowed down to her and asked in a plaintive voice where Sri Nanda-nandana was playing today. The elderly lady said: “This morning that giver of life to us Vraja-vasis went into the dense forest to play, with His cows and friends and His respected elder brother. Later, at dusk, He will return. All the Vraja-vasis are waiting on this path along the Yamuna, their eyes transfixed on the road. These trees stand with leaves erect, eagerly awaiting the chance to see Him. Surely He will come along this path”.
Sri Gopa-kumara said: As if anointed by a downpour of the purest nectar, I gazed with one-pointed attention down the path the old lady had pointed out. The sheer force of my ecstasy had frozen my thighs. But with some effort I moved on, and I heard from afar a certain sound. Mixed with the mooing of cows, it was the supremely attractive murmur of Krsna’s enchanting flute. That sound – sweet melodies of sportingly played notes, diverse with musical embellishments – was like nothing ever heard in the material world. Its attractive force at once overwhelmed everyone in the cowherd village.
By the power of that sound, sap flowed in a downpour from the long rows of trees, a flood of tears fell from the eyes of every embodied being in the village of the cowherds, a shower of milk rained from the breasts of all of Krsna’s mothers, even the elderly, and the rapid currents of the Yamuna suddenly stood still. I didn’t know whether that flute gave out poison or the nectar of immortality, whether its sound was harsh like thunder or soft like water, hotter than blazing fire or cooler than the moon. I couldn’t tell. But that sound drove all the Vraja-vasis mad. All of them were utterly bewildered.
Then I saw some women of Vraja come out of their homes, bearing in their hands the things needed to greet Krsna with worship. Others who passed by held ornaments and offerings of food on their heads. Other ladies, ignoring everything around them, ran toward the mingled sounds of the mooing of the cows and the song of the flute. In the frenzy of love for Krsna, the ladies stumbled down the path. Some ladies ran with their ornaments in disarray, some could hardly keep their belts and hair tied, some stayed in their homes, stunned like trees, and others fell unconscious to the ground. Some of the women who had fainted, their faces wet with tears and saliva, were carried forward by their girlfriends. Other ladies, pained by the urges of their love for Krsna, went ahead pressed on by their friends – “Come see Him!” The ladies, so diverse in complexion and adorned with diverse ornaments and dress, put to shame the good fortune of the goddess of fortune herself.
Swiftly the ladies ran to the bank of the Yamuna, absorbed in singing His names and pastimes. I too went forward, as if pulled by someone. Joining the throng of gopis rushing forward on all sides, I too began to run quickly. Then from a distance I saw Him, His charming flute in hand. Running quickly, He emerged from among His friends and animals and approached me, saying in a sweet voice, “Look, Sridama! Here is My dear friend Sarupa, the sun who shines on the lotus of your family!”
Krsna was dressed for the forest. His garments, earrings and peacock-feather crown all swayed to and fro, and so did His garland of kadamba flowers. His fragrance perfumed all directions, and His beautiful lotus face blossomed with a playful smile. His lotus eyes beamed with a merciful glance, and the varied assets of beauty decorated Him in a singular way. The fingers of His lotus hand busily pushed back the locks of His hair, which flew about, adorned with the dust raised by the cows. His tender, divine lotus feet touched the surface of the earth just to grant her the gift of supreme splendor. Playfully dancing as they moved, they attracted everyone’s heart with their great eagerness to walk quickly with large steps. The effulgence of His cloud-colored body, shining with the full sweetness of youth, lit up all corners of the sky. His beauty, which captured the hearts of the ever devotees of Vraja, was an ocean abounding with countless excellences.
He leaped forward and came close to me, compelled by the affection of His helpless devotee. I fainted in love at seeing Him. He caught hold of me by the neck. And suddenly He to fell to the ground. A moment later I reawoke and carefully freed my neck from His grasp. I stood up and saw Him on the ground, in a faint, moistening the dust-covered path with His tears’.
(Brihad-Bhagavatamrta Vol III, Chapter 6, verses 29-61) Sanatana Goswami, translated from Sanskrit by His Grace Gopiparanadhana Das)