Lord Shiva Poem by Mahathi Mydavolu

Why go around for alms from street to street
O Shiva Lord, in hands, with empty skull?
Come to my home. With water sweet Your feet
I wash and offer fruits sweet, belly full.

Why wear you Lord, dead tiger hide to hide
Your skin and smear all over body your
Warm ashes from cremation ground and ride
An ox. Why this poor guise O Lord of lore?

Why live on Kailash cliff, that freezing place.
I wonder Lord how could you whirl and dance
And gyrate happily in that cool place?
Come to the earth O Lord and beam a glance.

Come Lord, to humble abode of this poor.
You've silky heart to wear and soul to tour!