At the Lotus Feet of 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