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
One thought, one tune, one resonance-
Who calls me ever and anon?
I know not where I am.
I know not whither I shall go.
In dark amnesia,
Myself I buy, myself I sell.
All I break, again all I build.
All I hope to be mine, mine alone.
Alas, my heart is eclipsed
By dark and wild destruction night.
O Bird of Light, O Bird of Light,
With your glowing and flowing flames
Do enter into my heart once again.
You are calling me to climb up
And fly into the blue.
But how can I?
My heart is in prison,
In the strangled breath of a tiny room.
O Bird of Light, O Bird of Light,
O Bird of Light Supreme.
In me, I pray, keep not an iota of gloom.