ଶ୍ରୀ ପ୍ରତ୍ଯଙ୍ଗିରା ସ୍ତୋତ୍ରମ୍

Seventeen verses to Pratyangira in a register nothing else in her group here shares. There is no counter-rite in it and no enemy: she is the wish-creeper for those who take shelter with her, lovely with endless auspicious qualities, her lotus feet worshipped by the lords of gods and of demons, and made of being and consciousness and supreme bliss. The middle verses call her the refuge of all the countless world-eggs and the mother of the world, worshipped by every world there is. The last asks for one thing only and asks it gently — Pratyangira, great goddess, dear to the mind of Mahadeva, give me good fortune quickly; I salute you with my mind.