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I shall no more consider Thee unseen, for, in worship, I shall look straight into and through Thy finite, starry eyes to behold Thy mystic heart. With Thy breath in the heaving wind I shall mix my breath, borrowed from Thee. Wordless chants of my yearning for Thee will pulse with the cadence of my heart-throbs. I shall feel Thy heart beating in all hearts.

I shall watch Thy hands working in the law of gravitation, and in all cosmic forces. In the footfalls of all living creatures I shall hear Thy footsteps. In worship I shall behold Thy vast, skiey body, alternately adorned with stars on the dark, twinkling veil of night, and Thy coming light with the pale light of the dawn.

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I shall behold Thee heralding the night with the grey twilight. O my Cosmic Idol, garlanded with stringed beads of the Milky Way, diademed with the rainbow, festively arrayed with the diamonds of all glittering stars and planets, I bow to Thee! The glistening skin of the sky perspires rain with Thy life, and Thy blood runs through Thy veins of rivers, streams, brooks and in the blood flow of all men. No more shall I worship Thee as unseen, but as my visible, embodied Cosmic Idol. The temple-bells of harmony in Nature, the drumbeats of mighty sea-swells, the myriad votive candles of prayer and chanting in all churches devotion-flowers from the garden of all souls , and the incense of all aspiring loves—all these have I assembled for Thy worship, O visible Idol of my soul!

With open eyes and with the eye of my mind, let me behold Thee, my living Idol of God in Nature. Let me worship Thee vocally and with mental chants, with the bouquet of devotion, with serviceful activity, and with wisdom; above all, let it be with the language of love, with heart-whispers, with tearless tears in meditation, and with the silent sobs of intuition.

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O Mother of time, space, form, and relativity: Thou hast taken a finite form—Kali-Divine, colossal idol-symbol of all-sheltering Nature. The invisible Spirit assumed Thy form as our visible Mother Divine. In Thee throbs the heart of all-protecting, mothering kindness. O Mother Divine! The moon is set like a beauty-mark between Thy two dark eyebrows of twilight and night. Clouds of eternity veil Thy face. Gusts of prophetic lives have tried from time to time briefly to blow away Thy veil of mystery, and momentarily to reveal Thy face, so long unseen by our stares of ignorance.

But who, truly, can fathom Thee? O Mother Divine, in the dawn of creation I beheld Thee on the pathway of time, roaming in the rustic garb of primitive cultures, wearing the garments of untamed Nature and the garlands of unpolished minds that are conscious only of opaque, solid forms. In the noon-day of creation I beheld Thee in a lustrous garment of sunny minds, scorching men in the hot fire of their own desires.

Thy body of activity perspired with restlessness. All Thy children felt the strain of the struggle, and implored Thee for the cooling breeze of Thy peace. In Thy noon-hour of fulfillment Thou didst visit equally the dark slums of misery, the glad halls of prosperity, and calm shrines of peaceful wisdom. In Thy mid-day attire of awakening, Thou didst travel through festive centuries, beholding the dream of human life and death, of planetary evolution and dissolution, of the birth and death of civilizations, of the drama of world-unfolding nebulae dreaming new-born planets, of earthquakes, and of limited dissolutions.

Then the dark night of cosmic dissolution approached, and Thou didst wear the dark, grim veil of mourning, putting Creation through the terrible, fiery, but purifying ordeal of universal destruction. The sun burst and belched fire; a cosmic shudder broke the bowl of the sky, dropping embers of meteors; and all Creation became a furnace of flames. Everything became fire: matter, human sins, and darkness—everything was cast into Thy crucible to be made pure and luminous. Creation emerged again from the fire.

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  7. Beneath the ashes of matter, the embers of Creation slept for a time, and then, rocked by Thy hands, O Mother Divine, awoke again in its body of pure flames. Thy one hand of power wakes the unseen, creative force, taking many-hued, finite forms.

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    Another hand holds the astral sword of preservation, keeping all planets swinging in the rhythm of balance. Thy third hand clutches the severed head of the cosmos, representing complete dissolution when all Creation sleeps in Thee. Thy fourth hand calms the storm of delusion and bestows rays of salvation on Thy seeking devotees. O Kali, Thou Cosmic Mother of all creative activity, garlanded by all human minds; Thy rhythmic, wild dance of creation ceases only when Thy foot touches the breast of Thy Invisible Consort of transcendent Spirit—Shiva, in whom all creation rests.

    O Mother of Progress, I hear Thy dance of life in the tinkling little bells of laughing, harmonious lives.

    On the floor of my tender thoughts, Thine inspirations dance softly in rhythm with the music of the spheres. In the hall of creation, everywhere, O Kali, I hear Thy footsteps dancing powerfully in the booming thunder, and softly in the gentle songs of atoms. The Infinite sleeps beneath Thy magic shroud of delusion. Nearer dost Thou dance than the very throbbing of my soul; Thy steps resound on the farthest horizons of my mind. Divine Mother, dance where Thou willst, but oh, I pray Thee, play the music of Thy magic footsteps also and ever in the sacred sanctum of my soul!

    O Goddess Kali, woven into Thy changing robes are the dreams of creation, preservation, and destruction. Mother Divine, on the lambent veil of Thy consciousness play Thou a million cosmic dramas. Thus dost Thou entertain and amuse Thy good children, and frighten toward goodness Thy naughty ones. Mother Divine, draw aside Thy glittering veil of countless motion picture scenes, and show me Thy all-delusion-dispersing face of mercy.

    O Father, when I was blind I found not a door which led to Thee, but now that Thou hast opened my eyes I find doors everywhere: through the hearts of flowers, through the voice of friendship, through sweet memories of all lovely experiences. Every gust of my prayer opens a new door in the vast temple of Thy presence. With the opening of the earliest dawn and the lotus-buds, my soul softly opens in prayer to receive Thy light. Bathe each petal of my mind with Thy radiant rays! I saturate myself with the perfume of Thy presence, and I wait to waft with the breeze the aroma of Thy message of love to all.

    Bless me, that with the spreading dawn I may spread Thy love everywhere. Bless me, that with the awakening dawn I may awaken all souls with my own and bring them to Thee. The sun shines high in the heavens: everything is fully awake. Awaken Thou me, likewise! Thou art invisible, yet Thine energy flows through the rays of sunshine. Fill my veins with Thine invisible rays, making me strong and tireless.

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    As the light shines steadily, undisturbed, on the street, whether crowded or empty, so may I hold my calmness and my strength steadily while I move through the crowded or empty streets of life. Give me strength. And what I receive, teach me to share with others. The day is done.

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    Refreshed and sanctified with the sunshine of the day I pass through the portals of evening, dimly adorned with faint stars, to enter into the temple of silence and worship Thee. I worship Thy Spirit of approaching calmness. What prayers can I offer? For I have no words to offer Thee.

    I shall light a little fire of devotion on the altar of my soul.

    Will that light suffice to bring Thee into my dark temple—my dimly lighted temple, dark with my ignorance? I crave, I yearn for Thee! With closed eyes I sit in the temple of night, and worship Thee.