Like a shadow that knows
no separation [from its object],
they follow behind Your twin holy feet,
caring not in what direction [they go].
As bones soften and dissolve,
they melt in yearning, and melt again,
as love’s river overflows its course.
Stammering, their hair on end,
all senses focussed on the One,
‘My Lord!’ they weeping cry.
The lotus of their heart blossoms,
as hands close like a flower bud.
Teardrops spring forth,
and ecstasy shows in their eyes,
as in them daily flourishes,
the love that never dies.
Praise be to Him who, as a mother,
nurtures such as these.

~ Manikkavachagar, Tiruvachakam