We bow to fear.
Fear fearfullyBowed and bowed
To Eisenhower.We think of war.
War thought of Eisenhower;Victory, too.
Two infinite extremes,
War and Peace:War, the destroyer
Of the blooming world;Peace, the devourer
Of roaring War.Eisenhower,
The ThunderOf the Omnipotent,
Divinely arrangedFor their dinner.
A dinner unprecedented,And inimitable, too.
Both the Princes came in.
Two hearts became oneIn a golden embrace.
They grew into All-Delight.Dinner over,
War sat in absolute reliefAt the feet of Eisenhower.
Peace commenced his dance,A perfect stranger
To the dark hush of extinction-night.God smiled.
In words of dynamic Silence, He spoke:“The Man of the Hour.”
```From:Sri Chinmoy,America in Her Depths, Vishma Press, 1973
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/ahd