In a long pilgrimage to the shrines of Shiva,
we land in the lap of Nepal,
Pasupatinath, the Lord of the bestial world,
The beast , the animal, is naturally bound
to the terrifying immanence of Time,
the Kala.
The Protector of life and the Lord of the city,
the Bull of Shiva, sits at the gate of his shrine
It is then when you come and see him there that you know
you have finally arrived at the entrance to Shiva's abode.
You feel the presence of Shiva
blazing like a forest-flame,
leaving you thirsty for a drink of the water
flowing down from the crown of his head,
from the Ganga rushing down in an immense torrential flow.
The melody of the dance of his wild , eccentric rhythm,
throws you off balance,
and in that moment of chaos you learn
the need for the balance between the two worlds,
the symphony of his relentless song of the sweeping rush
and the stillness needed to stay on your feet,
the stillness at the center of his dance
of ephemeral cycles of death and life and life and death.
In his world the dead do not die nor the living live,
Shiva: the Imperishable!
Shiva, ablaze like a million suns,
in the light thereof you know
that the Unreal is possible because the Real is Real.
we land in the lap of Nepal,
Pasupatinath, the Lord of the bestial world,
The beast , the animal, is naturally bound
to the terrifying immanence of Time,
the Kala.
The Protector of life and the Lord of the city,
the Bull of Shiva, sits at the gate of his shrine
It is then when you come and see him there that you know
you have finally arrived at the entrance to Shiva's abode.
You feel the presence of Shiva
blazing like a forest-flame,
leaving you thirsty for a drink of the water
flowing down from the crown of his head,
from the Ganga rushing down in an immense torrential flow.
The melody of the dance of his wild , eccentric rhythm,
throws you off balance,
and in that moment of chaos you learn
the need for the balance between the two worlds,
the symphony of his relentless song of the sweeping rush
and the stillness needed to stay on your feet,
the stillness at the center of his dance
of ephemeral cycles of death and life and life and death.
In his world the dead do not die nor the living live,
Shiva: the Imperishable!
Shiva, ablaze like a million suns,
in the light thereof you know
that the Unreal is possible because the Real is Real.
7
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