Tukaram, Poem 1657

He who holds the strings sets the puppets in motion with subtle skill; he creates, preserves and destroys; various are the forms of His skill. Though he pervades the world, there is somewhat left of Him, he stands at Pandhari, tempted by the bliss of devotion. He is neither very dark nor blue; he is neither hard nor soft; he has none of the three attributes, yet he is endowed with great strength. He exists and exists not in all things; he is incomprehensible by mind or reason; he is a sea of grace, my Lord Vitthala, says Tuka.