Lunar Self

Poetic Rendering

I am not this body
this fleeting house of bone and breath.
I am not the servant of time
whose days rise and fall like restless tides.
I am not the grain
that ripens only to wither back into dust.
Know this, O Kudalasangamadeva:
for the one who knows the Self,
death is but the moon’s dark night,
a brief eclipse in an unbroken sky.
And when the light returns
as surely as the crescent becomes full
that rising again is my great festival,
my homecoming into Your eternal radiance.

Spiritual Context

Interpretation

The Cosmic Reality

Shata Sthala

Practical Integration

Modern Application

Essence

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