Kāli

---

Kāli

A Poem

Shed Thy mask, O fiery Mother
Am Thy infant, tarry not further.

All song is woe, all light dark
No sight of Thee, all life stark.

Bring the Player, the immortal flute
Ferry my prayer, transmute the brute.

My babble song, my flailing gesture
And toddler fire, to Thee beyond measure.

Tinged with ache, every lunged air
Is for Thy sake, on cliff of despair.

Shear my ego, rouse my fire
Reveal Thy face, O Mother dire!

Picture Courtesy: Daniel Wamba