The White Siva

The white Siva I had seen
Walking in the wilderness
On winding roads he was windblown
On moutaintop, serene

The white Siva is a playful yogi
His yoga of the flowing waters
What I have seen is the stratosphere
I tell what I was on my return

He fell into my bed
Making it a wilderness
He made it water sky and earth
I saw him naked at this birth

I took the Lord in hand
And between pine, juniper, wild berry
Tasting of bitters, ash and sweetest cherry
I took his play upon my body

I raised him above my head
He who had all this wilderness
He came, I saw the flowing waters
He went, leaving my distress

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