SHIVA
Brahma beholds with awe,
in His son, the Father.
Saraswati listens in bewilderment,
the knowing of this Master.
Learning whenceforth
His mouth, Siva Mukhi.
She sprang as Mother of learning,
the primal Daughter.
Rama, in full attendance of His tribes,
proclaimed Him Isvara,
who softly answered,
“It is you I adore, and Sita is my Mother.”
Many, in straightforward simpleness,
pray for daily meal.
Behold!
The universal breadwinner.
For more of multitudes,
His presence in a black stone,
colossal.
Others, who know His transcendence,
to cause even time, as the timeless Deity!
Yet He,
beholder of the Cosmic drum,
looks only to Her,
His eternal throb, Forever…
( Shiva Poetry )
in His son, the Father.
Saraswati listens in bewilderment,
the knowing of this Master.
Learning whenceforth
His mouth, Siva Mukhi.
She sprang as Mother of learning,
the primal Daughter.
Rama, in full attendance of His tribes,
proclaimed Him Isvara,
who softly answered,
“It is you I adore, and Sita is my Mother.”
Many, in straightforward simpleness,
pray for daily meal.
Behold!
The universal breadwinner.
For more of multitudes,
His presence in a black stone,
colossal.
Others, who know His transcendence,
to cause even time, as the timeless Deity!
Yet He,
beholder of the Cosmic drum,
looks only to Her,
His eternal throb, Forever…
( Shiva Poetry )
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