There is a plenteous harvest of God in the land, but the unlucky are suffering from drought. They do not know how to store Him up; they travel by random paths into the wilderness. God has made his home in the world, but the path to it is long. Tuka says, When our mind is merged in Thee, what is left but thou, O God?
Hinduism
Tukaram, Poem 1667
Source The Poems of Tukârâma, trad. J. Nelson Fraser et K. B. Marathe, 3 vol., 1909-1915, archive.org · Contents