For other versions of this work, see Kali the Mother (Vivekananda).
Kali the Mother.
The stars are blotted out,
Clouds are covering clouds,
It is darkness, vibrant, sonant.
In the roaring whirling wind
Are the souls of a million lunatics,—
But loosed from the prison house,—
Wrenching trees by the roots,
Sweeping all from the path.
The sea has joined the fray,
And swirls up mountain-waves,
To reach the pitchy sky.
Scattering plagues and sorrows,
Dancing mad with joy,
Come, Mother, Come!
For Terror is thy name,
Death is in Thy breath.
And every shaking step
Destroys a world for e'er.
Thou "Time" the All-Destroyer!
Then come, O Mother, Come!
Who can misery love,
Dance in destruction's dance,
And hug the form of Death,—
To him the Mother comes.
V.