At the Lotus Feet of The Mother

1. 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.
Sri Chinmoy, Flame Waves, Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 1955