Seated are You within shape's throng;
Without shape, song You go on singing.
Having bathed inside the sea of form,
At soul a voice You rouse from sleep.
Amid those sensate or unconscious,
Your notes, always they ring forth.
Upon all thought and every action
Tender care You smear.
Atomic dust-motes on a stream of light,
Amid all them You play on a reed pipe.
The tone-body from ages gone by,
Time-and-season You defeat.
Sarkarverse article
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Tuesday, April 22, 2025
The songs we sing
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The music You began as Shiva was continued by Krsna. Baba, You completed it. Triumphant, these hymns are everlasting.
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