On a springtime avenue lined with floral wreaths,
Who arrived with ankle-bells on feet:
Him I do not recognize, Him I never saw.
In a formless courtyard by form's sorcery,
His own self He goes on scattering,
Unflinching, oh with open heart.
In river-water with the dew's oscillation,
At temple of thought with foliage of color,
You've remained, You're pervading everyone,
Whatever mind espies, what the eyes regard.
Much as I continue thinking, no limit is there;
At each compass-point I obtain that Charming Entity.
On mountain peak and at ocean bottom,
His glory emanates, Him everyone does recall.
Sarkarverse article
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Monday, August 25, 2025
The Formless Being
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Never have we seen, but still we keep remembering.
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