Shiva, fearless you roam the realms as an austere yogi, why carry a trident?
It was a tree once, I reminisce that, then it become a staff, so I traveled with it, then yuga's passed, heart's turned, it became a trident, but if one opens his heart, eternally it has always been a flower
Watercolor on Archival Paper
Height: 12in by Width: 9in