Thy Heart of music-Fire consumes our drowse,
Nowhere our journey ends.
Thy patience unknown all souls must learn from Thee
To march through immortal lands.

We hurt thy Heart’s arabesque supreme of bliss.
Ever unplumbed is thy Ruth.
Our sheaths’ afflicted roots imbibe thy Grace;
In Thee the tapestry of Truth.

All worlds with ignorance blind immerse in Thy Light,
O Queen of perfection-sea!
Thy birth of Lore supreme within us bursts
And makes us eternal, free.
Sri Chinmoy, Flame Waves, Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 1955