Mani gave the figure of a tinsmith
hammering a bowl into shape,
his other hand hidden,
supporting the blows from beneath.
With the mandali, You were exacting –
(merciless as the law of karma),
hammering home, time and again,
restraint, discipline and obedience,
Your rebukes tempered afterwards
with love-gestures and divine pardon.
With lovers afar (and yet to come)
You stressed remembrance and devotion,
allowing Illusion to deliver
the shaping blows, presenting Yourself
as the forbearing Companion,
the One Whose love is unconditional.
O child of God, each according to its ripeness;
the depth of its slumber.
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