My heart can never understand
Why my mind, vital and body
Are so attached
To the fleeting finite.
Sri Chinmoy, Seventy-Seven Thousand Service-Trees, part 9, Agni Press, 1998
One thought, one tune, one resonance-
Who calls me ever and anon?
I know not where I am.
I know not whither I shall go.
In dark amnesia,
Myself I buy, myself I sell.
All I break, again all I build.
All I hope to be mine, mine alone.
Alas, my heart is eclipsed
By dark and wild destruction night.
O Bird of Light, O Bird of Light,
With your glowing and flowing flames
Do enter into my heart once again.
You are calling me to climb up
And fly into the blue.
But how can I?
My heart is in prison,
In the strangled breath of a tiny room.
O Bird of Light, O Bird of Light,
O Bird of Light Supreme.
In me, I pray, keep not an iota of gloom.