Invocation

O Mother I worship you as a girl of sixteen

faultless in every limb, so graceful your form

that it dazzles every eye.  Fire-born, you are,

pure consciousness crystalline.  Countenance

more brilliant that a thousand suns, your smile,

the roseate splendour of dawn and coral lips

redder than pomegranate buds.  You created

ten divine incarnations from your fingernails.

The bowing Vedas colour your feet vermilion.

You trancending both knowledge and ignorance, 

Srividya are, gnosis personified. Befriend,

protect, and shrive me, O Tripurasundari,

as daughter, mother, sister, wife—or paramour—

till that for which the world was made perfects itself in me.

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