O Mother sweetThe flowers of love and joy
In my bosom-garden bloom.
To seize Thee, O Mother Sweet,
Oft-times I face my doom.
I seek my refuge in Thee alone,
In Thee my battle of life,
In Thee my welkin, stars and sun,
My heart of joy and strife.
Sri Chinmoy, My first friendship with the muse, Agni Press, 1973