“He stood on a corner of the battlefield, sun setting on the shore;
Victory was eluding him, making him slightly sore.
His nemesis’s brother spake saying it was a Goddess that kept them at bay;
Having him mystified, how could Good help Evil? It made him pray.
There is one way, spoke his friend of clarity, and it is to meditate;
He took upon himself to invoke the Goddess with lotuses a hundred and eight.
Being helped in the endeavor, by a friend so primal;
He started beseeching the Goddess who made him wait.
Lotuses he offered, the last of which was pinched.
The lotus is like your eyes; his mother declared once;
He took an arrow to offer an eye for a flower not as beautiful.
The Goddess deemed Her eyes had seen enough;
For She came down to bless him, her heart bountiful.
What was now left was to grow, touching the sky.”
Inspired from a short Hindi poem.