Tukaram, Poem 2607

In his formless nature he seems cruel; when
he assumes attributes he is tender and
cherishes the world. Let us espouse still the
cause we have taken up; it will be sweet, it will
never change. If we churn curdled milk, we shall
get butter; it will be spoiled if we pour water into
it. Tuka says, With steady purpose keep this
thought before the mind, it will then be the
essence of all.