Where the Rivers Meet
The spiritual musings of Trevor Hall
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
The Master sang in an ecstatic mood...
"O the ever-blissful Mother! The enchantress of the great Shiva!
You dance out of your own bliss and clap your hands all by yourself.
The eternal, the Self-existent, you are of the form of emptiness,
And you wear the moon your forehead.
Where did you get the garland of skulls when there was no universe?
Mother, you are the mover of all; we move as you order.
We do as you, O Mother, make us do; we say as you make us say.
You make the worthless Kamalakanta*, O Mother, utter blasphemies!
Wielding the sword, O the fatal lady, you have slaughtered both virtue and vice."
*Author of song
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