My Longings

My longings make me poor and weak,  

They hear not my secret Will.  

Ever they hate my quest supreme,  

Away they take my thrill.  

A day shall come, I know it well,  

When all desires of mine  

Will seek Thy Grace and Thee alone.  

I then in Thee shall shine.  

I will be above the fruits of deeds.  

Thy blue Compassion-Eye  

Will guide my heart and soul, my all.  

In Thee my past shall die.

 by Sri Chinmoy from My First Friendship with the Muse