Friday, October 22, 2010

Too many gods

The pot is a god. The winnowing fan is a god. The stone in the street is a god. The comb is a god. The bowstring is also a god. The bushel is a god and the spouted cup is a god.
Gods, gods, there are so many there’s no place left for a foot.
Quoted here, from the 12th century South Indian poet Basavanna.

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