My longings


My longings make me poor and weak,

They hear not my secret Will.

Ever they hate my quest supreme,

Away they take my thrill.

A day shall come, I know it well,

When all desires of mine

Will seek Thy Grace and Thee alone.

I then in Thee shall shine.

I will be above the fruits of deeds.

Thy blue Compassion-Eye

Will guide my heart and soul, my all.

In Thee my past shall die. ```

From:Sri Chinmoy,My first friendship with the Muse, Sri Chinmoy Lighthouse, New York, 1973
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