Shiva

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Shiva

A Poem

Austere, Immense and Mystic-Bare
Aloof, Ancient and atop the world-stair.
Night-draped, Lord of goblin and ghoul
The many are fragments of Thy single soul.

Seated in all our eternal Muse
Even our poison Thou dost not refuse.
Thy silent all-supporting will does sanction
Many-limbed Prakriti’s every single action.

The Eternal’s ascetic-mood art Thou
Seated, stable bearing the play below.
All Cosmos moves by Thy mystic dance
The Mother stops only by Thy divine glance.

Be Thou Rudra, arrive in Thy warrior mood
Arm Thy children and slay all Night’s brood.
Auspicious, eternal and Divine Sire
Burn all our ills by Thy third-eye dire!