Much as I delight in this image of the fierce feminine, my favorite part of the story comes at the end. If she continues dancing, she will destroy the entire world. Fortunately her consort, the god Shiva, knows what to do. Taking the form of a tiny baby, he lies down on the battlefield. As soon as Kali sees this tender infant, she stops, and cradling it to her breast, begins to nurse.
Death gives way to new life.
I love this image of the fierce goddess, surrounded by the ten thousand demon corpses she has just slaughtered, quietly suckling a baby. Cutting back my hibiscus was a fierce act. I had to let go of blame and self-pity, heed a powerful inner voice, take a chance on a bunch of dead stubs in a pot. I had to trust in the mysterious darkness. Ultimately of course, all is Kali, all is the Mother.