Thought
Hail, Rudra’s visit in the morn
With retinue clouds water born
Cyclonic air unwound assailing
Destroys impurities prevailing
Through narrow passes howl
Sharp awakening to ears allow
Sweeping streets, driving rain
Whirling dervish dance attain
Whistle past the frozen lakes
Skim bastion hills and glades
Roaring wild and roaming free
Woody boughs bend woody knee
Kindly wind of grace is blowing
Destroyer of our blinded sight
Whistling tune for senses keen
Leaving mind well swept and clean
Prayer
O Lord, destroyer of ignorance and darkness whose compassion rescues me from poisonous thought and consequences. Sweep me up in Thy wild torrent that I may be fearless and strong. I do not ask for favors, only that I may play Thy game with skill.