Atop the kailasha
amidst snow and cold

sat a hermit

with his eyes closed

indifferent to differences

unaware of appearances

abiding by no laws

never taking a pause

from his deep meditation

lost in deep contemplation

clad in tiger skin

all animals his kin

a snake garland

ash on forehead

destroyer and life-giver

the hermit was Shiva

rejected and an outcast

never dwells on his past

neither a teacher, nor a preacher

never thinking of the future

he is guileless and tough 

lost and unbound

if you look hard enough

within you, he may be found

to be like Shiva

all you need to do

is open that third eye

and take a view

if you can 

wield his trident

strike down every impediment

which stands between you

and the Shiva in you.