Tukaram, Poem 2356

Their tongue is moistened with the nectar of love; every impulse of their mind dwells immovable at His feet. All good omens hasten to the spot, the water of joy falls in a shower there. All the senses are turned into the shape of Brahma, for his primal form enters them as it were a mould. Tuka says, Where the prince of worshippers dwells, there, without doubt, God dwells rejoicing.