18

There was a time
When the poet in me
Prayerfully desired to roam and roam
Inside my heart-garden.

The poet in me now sleeplessly cries
To clasp the flower-beauty
Of my heart-garden.

And before long, the poet in me
Will meditatively grow into
The nectar-fragrance-delight
Of my heart-garden.
Sri Chinmoy, Poetry: My Rainbow-Heart-Dreams, Perfection-Glory Press, Augsburg., 1993