In this age of noise,
where attention frays
and days forget themselves,
Shiva spoke gently to Devi
of what still breathes.
In Kali Yuga, he said,
the Mantras of the Tantra respond.
They move quickly,
like fire meeting dry grass,
yielding fruit without delay.
The rites once mighty in the First Age
precise, elaborate, unquestioned
now sleep like serpents
whose poison has been drawn.
Their forms remain,
their beauty intact,
yet their bite no longer startles time.
In Satya, they flowered.
In other ages, they bore weight.
But here, in Kali’s restless current,
they are spoken of
as though lifeless.
This is not a verdict on all paths.
It is a whisper meant
for those who walk this one.
Tantra does not shout across traditions.
It speaks inward,
to those who listen through its texts,
its rhythms,
its pramanas.
To universalize is to misunderstand.
To borrow another’s scripture
to correct a path you do not walk
is to speak a language
without learning its grammar.
Let the Veda guide the Vaidika.
Let Bhakti bloom where Bhakti is sung.
Let Shakes be approached
where Shakti is named.
And let Tantra remain
what it has always been
precise, timely,
and fiercely aware of now.
Not everything is for everyone.
And that, too,
is part of Dharma.
— Shiva to Devi
Maha Nirvana Tantra
Om Namah Shivaya.
Some journeys begin with a verse and continue quietly in the shared space https://shorturl.at/4Fs5a of our Tantra circle.
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