The golden Flute
A sea of peace and joy and lightBeyond 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!
Sri Chinmoy, AUM — Vol. 8, No.10, May 1973, AUM Centre Press, 1973