were that there is, there is--

a mountain

upon a mountain, upon a

mountain's back.

bowing weightlessly to the

highest tier of purple...

Mahadevi's morning sari

in the solitudes of night.

slipped on from a sleep deep

enough to lull sleep to waking.

locks flowing with arms a

long time come, holiest Mother

where everything registers as

she creates it.

all her watchful eyes prepared to

gouge themselves out, rather than

see harm come to her Heart.