Syama wakes on the cremation grounds
To take Her child
At the final hour
To Her lap.
The peaceful Mother sits on the pyre
In fire hidden by Her sari of love.
To hold him on Her lap
She left the Kailasa of Her joy, and
With blessings and fearlessness in Her hands
Made the cremation grounds Her home.
Why fear this place
When you’ll sleep peacefully at the Mother’s feet?
Who dies ignited by the flames of this world,
To him the Mother calls:
‘Come to My lap, come to My lap.’
To lull you to sleep, Oh Wearied by Life,
Ma takes you to Her lap
Disguised as death.
Reading Time: < 1 minute
