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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 feet
And every flaming star that glitters highAbove you, close up and meet
In you: the Eternal I.Yes, my child, go out into the world; walk slow,
And silent, comprehending all, and by and byYour soul, the universe, will know
Itself: the Eternal I.The Old Wisdom
``` — Jane GoodallFrom:Sri Chinmoy,Only One Reality, Agni Press, 2025
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/oor