Her Eyes
To slake the enormous thirst of this world,   World recondite,
Her gaze swifter than arrows hurled
   Through the warrior Night.
Eyes brimming with past dawns,
   With aeons a-peep.
Till earth changes her forms
   They'll know no sleep.
Sri Chinmoy, The Mother of the Golden All, Sri Aurobindo Ashram Press, Pondicherry, 1974
