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
