For me there is no other way
To reach my goal
Than to claim God secretly
And openly
As my own, very own.
Sri Chinmoy, Twenty-Seven Thousand Aspiration-Plants, part 43, Agni Press, 1984
I remember …
My mother loved me, her world.
My father loved me, his dream.
My home loved me, its 'supreme'.
I remember …
I prayed with the blooming dawn,
I played with the glowing sun.
My life, the nectar fun.
I remember …
I sang with the twinkling stars,
I danced with the floating moon.
All lost, alas, too soon.
I remember, I remember, I remember.