The Mother's sandals

```

"At our bliss-dawn who dares to gaze?

But alas, my brothers, sisters bear

From morn to eve and every where

Contempt wild from the human race.

From burning soil and slushing shower

Our million comrades save mankind,

Yet thick are the faults the mortals find.

Humanity brings no dower.

Mother, between our doleful race

And us alas, what dire contrast!

Worshipped for all ages we shall last.

Off will they be kicked without praise."

"My children, aim not your anger's arrow

At breasts of human souls, nothing wrong

They do, your kin round them can throng

Only when their high service they throw

On earthly men with perfect bloom.

For you know, your future brothers as well

Must cherish the feet of men and dwell.

In it my renewal and doom." ```

From:Sri Chinmoy,The Mother of the Golden All, Agni Press, 1974
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/mga