Her feet
Two Feet pervade the brooding vastIn echoless noise to lave with light
The coom and pangs beyond surmise
That heaven may be our starkest night.
Despair and spleen and spite must pass,
The strangling souls will rise in embrace
To become undying through eternity,
To reach Her Feet's perennial Grace.
Sri Chinmoy, The Mother of the Golden All, Agni Press, 1974
