I gave you the tablets at Sinai,
I drove your chariot at Kurukshetra.
I gave you the ayats word by word,
I woke up Siddhartha 'n the carpenter.
No matter the time, age 'n technology,
I always rise to treat the common cold.
Amidst a world full of sore coldness,
I only need ten vessels absurdly bold.
I have nothing to do with perfection,
Far from it, I've got plenty to improve.
With each new vessel my sight broadens,
With each identity my existence renewed.
Keeper am I of this terrestrial neighborhood.
I am your innermost fire of god and good.