(At the Tennis Court by the beach)
I am Thy offspring blue, god of the sea;
With my descending surge I bow to Thee,And feel, O Player eternal!
thy Game divineBlessing the human souls that round Thee shine.
Each 'stroke' of Thine awakes a swift-eyed roseOf surrender-light to hush our earth-billows
Of time-built ignorance, O mighty Power!Thy 'service' bestows on dust an immortal shower.
Thy golden Hand's outward and inward 'swings'Show in thy Body how Spirit's Creation springs.
```From:Sri Chinmoy,The Mother of the Golden All, Agni Press, 1974
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