Beyond my reach I know.
In me the storm-tossed weeping night
Finds room to rage and flow.
I cry aloud, but all in vain;
I helpless, the earth unkind
What soul of might can share my pain?
Death-dart alone I find.
A raft am I on the sea of Time,
My oars are washed away.
How can I hope to reach the clime
Of God's eternal Day?
But hark! I hear Thy golden Flute,
Its notes bring the Summit down.
Now safe am I, O Absolute!
Gone death, gone night's stark frown!
from My Flute by Sri Chinmoy
Beneath the tree of universal beauty,
That cradles the entire world,
I sit and sing.
My song embodies
The marriage of life and death,
My trance illumines all darkness.
In a fascinating talk named American Freedom In My Poetry, Sri Chinmoy talks about the evolution of his style:
My morning surrender-meditation
Is infinitely more beautiful,
Powerful and fruitful
Than I can ever disclose.
Aspiration-Plant by Sri Chinmoy