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When the night wind makes the pine trees creakAnd the pale clouds glide across the dark sky,
Go out, my child, go out and seekYour soul: the Eternal I.
For all the grasses rustling at your feetAnd every flaming star that glitters high
Above you, close up and meetIn you: the Eternal I.
Yes, my child, go out into the world; walk slow,And silent, comprehending all, and by and by
Your soul, the universe, will knowItself: the Eternal I.
The Old Wisdom ```From:Sri Chinmoy,Only One Reality Sri Chinmoy, Agni Press, 2025
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/oor