My heart shall be as pure as Aurora’s tears.
My wild vital must change its volcano-choice.
To hound my golden thoughts my vital horse
In vain endeavours; in me His Ecstasy-Voice.
I try, I cry, I sigh, but all in vain.
O Lord of my bleeding heart, I need the Eye
That sees the lives of the Present, Future, Past.
O doubt, aside you stay from my mission’s sky!
by Sri Chinmoy
Excerpt from My First Friendship With The Muse