The Mother

```

An endless birth from mute Eternity

Within Thy Bosom dawns at Thy Will supreme.

Thy blissful Touch on all the limbs of earth

Bestows a thrill of joy, unknown, extreme.

In Thee is hushed, O Mother!

our empty cry.

We are Thy stoic sons of the fire-pure way,

Firm-poised in dreadful hours of earth's blind drag;

No more the harrow of doom shadows our day.

Proceedest Thou across the path of Night

With Thy Flame-white Love to change its face and fate.

Thou art the matchless fruit of Thy cosmos' seed;

In Thee the key of Transformation's gate.

```

— Chinmoy (1955)

From:Sri Chinmoy,Mridu-Di: my first and foremost mother of affection (Mridu Bhashini Devi), Agni Press, 1998
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/mdm