Dharma, ever steadfast, was inseparable from righteousness; he harbored no attachment to anything unrighteous. So pure was his presence that the very sight of him sent all sins fleeing in terror. It was at this sacred moment, as recounted in the Brahmavaivarta Purana after Dharma had offered his hymn to Śrī Kṛṣṇa, that a wondrous maiden appeared at Dharma’s left side. Soon, this maiden emerged before the Supreme Soul himself. Her radiance was dazzling—equal to ten million full moons—and her eyes shone like autumn lotuses in bloom. She smiled sweetly, her teeth gleaming, her complexion dark and lustrous, surpassing all others in beauty. She was none other than the goddess of speech, Sarasvati, the beloved muse of poets and the source of eloquence. Standing joyfully before Govinda, Sarasvati began to sing. Her song echoed the deeds of the Lord, performed in every age and every cosmic cycle. She praised him seated upon a throne of jewels, adorned with sparkling ornaments, as the Lord of the Rasa dance—the supreme enjoyer, beloved of the Queen of the Rasa. She sang of his delight after the divine dance, exhausted yet blissful in the pleasures of the Rasa. Having offered her hymn and bowed respectfully, Sarasvati, her face beaming with delight, remained there. It is said that whoever recites this hymn composed by Vani (Sarasvati) upon rising in the morning will be blessed. This very hymn to Śrī Kṛṣṇa, composed by Sarasvati, arose from the mind of Krishna, the Supreme Soul. Then, another divine presence manifested. Clad in yellow garments, smiling, forever youthful, she was the very embodiment of fortune—prosperity among the gods and royal splendor among kings. She stood before Hari, the Supreme Lord. This was Mahalakshmi, who bowed reverently and proclaimed, “I bow to the one who is the foundation of truth, the knower of truth, whose very root is truth.” Having spoken and offered her respects to Śrī Hari, she took her seat upon a comfortable throne. After this, yet another glorious form emerged from the mind of the Supreme Soul. Her complexion gleamed like molten gold, her brilliance rivaling ten million suns. She was dressed in red garments and adorned with radiant jewels. Among all powers, the Supreme Lord himself was their presiding deity, and this great Mother of the worlds was the very embodiment of his own power. In her hands she held the conch, discus, mace, lotus, rosary, and water-pot, as well as the Narayana weapon, the Brahma weapon, the Rudra weapon, and the Pashupata weapon. Filled with joy, she stood before Krishna and sang his praises. Prakriti, the divine power, proclaimed: “Through me, the universe—endowed with all powers—exists and is permeated by strength. Created by you, it is not independent; you alone are the Lord of the worlds. To create, you are the creator; to dissolve, you are the destroyer. In but the blink of Brahma’s eye, you bring about dissolution. O Lord, who can truly describe your immeasurable power? All that moves and all that is still, the gods led by Brahma himself—all exist by your will. I bow to you, Supreme Self, the most complete, the most praiseworthy, and ever blissful.” “Even Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, and the rest cannot adequately praise you. Nor can the Vedas, nor the wisest among the wise, truly capture your glory.” Having spoken thus, Durga, seated upon a jeweled lion-throne, concluded her hymn to Krishna, the Supreme Self. Though she departed, Durga never truly leaves his abode; she ever resides there. Then Sauti narrated: “The goddess, radiant as pure crystal, stood alone—enchanting and resplendent. She was clad in white garments, adorned with every ornament. Standing before the Supreme, Eternal Brahman, she offered her praise with devotion and reverence.