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In his beautifully cadenced prose, Sri Chinmoy conveys the pangs of the heart that fails to have the vision of God. The seeker's inner illumination, occurring at the poem's close, stems from his embrace of life-his universal "yes"--for in his acquiescence he discovers God. This all-absorbing quality supplies the keynote of Sri Chinmoy's approach to life and art in the decade that followed.
1971, the year of this poem, saw the commencement of publication in book form of Sri Chinmoy's writings since his arrival in America in 1964. Several of these initial volumes, including My Flute and My First Friendship with the Muse, also contained poems that had been written during the poet's early years in India. The poems of these volumes are particularly notable for their strict stanzaic forms and careful internal structure of rhyme and rhythm:
1971, the year of this poem, saw the commencement of publication in book form of Sri Chinmoy's writings since his arrival in America in 1964. Several of these initial volumes, including My Flute and My First Friendship with the Muse, also contained poems that had been written during the poet's early years in India. The poems of these volumes are particularly notable for their strict stanzaic forms and careful internal structure of rhyme and rhythm:
A LITTLE
A little joy have I of ceaseless joy,
A little day of timeless day
Yet knows no bound this empty show of mine;
I march along a goalless way
0 Love! A desert within me ever pines.
Do turn it into a song of dawn.
I know not in what hour of evil night
Thou art, my Lord, from me withdrawn.
Life now must reach Thy Breath of Bliss supreme,
Make Thee the one and only Guide.
Thou art the Bridge between my death and birth;
0 let my longings in Thee abide.[3]
