Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Om Namah Shivaya
What can we do
but cry to Shiva?
Crescent moon in hair,
trident in hand.
One day I went out
and he slipped
into my earth body,
became my blood.
As I turned to see,
I saw him looking back
from everywhere.
Now he is the face
of everyone,
each thing I behold.
He is who I am.
He is the dancer,
I the dance.
Dorothy Walters
November 25, 2008
