Tukaram, Poem 2249

When we lie on a rocky burial ground and feel as comfortable as though we were on a bed, then we truly enjoy Your favour and delight in it; else, all is vain and fruitless, a matter of hollow words. When trees and shrubs and animals and stones become our friends, then only we possess the gift of Thy favour. Tuka says, Now, O Panduranga, I will take my life in my hand and wait for that experience.