15.11.55
Slowly he came and slowly away he went
A quiet peak of India's might and love.At last he knew Her who throws the flood-peace down.
In silence-fire he bathed in her sea of Grace."Mother, O Mother mine, Mother supreme
Thou art!the fear of war aside cast.
Torture our feeble hearts with thy Spirit's Blaze,And sow in us the seed of surrender-light.
Who says we are eyeless when thy Grace is guide?""In Truth alone abides the Victor-Sun.
Proclaim it now in mirth — my high command —And India, the nectar-hope of earth."
```From:Sri Chinmoy,The Mother of the Golden All, Agni Press, 1974
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/mga