Tukaram, Poem 827

Names and forms are the sphere that we assign to illusion, but within that sphere we have received all our knowledge of Him. Marks are set for the distribution of land, but the land is never broken up; wise men alone will understand this. When a child rolls about in his mother’s lap, he does not think anything of her, and his mind is free from insolence. Tuka says, The formless Hari-Hara visits us in return for faith.