Flowers too have a tongue,
They also have joy and strife.They are the expression first
Of the psychic flame in life.Each plane owns a colour.
She boons with names to thoseThat unveil to Her their skies
Rich in oneness of the source.But those that are still and mute
Nameless, infinitesimal.Now a thousand flowers
Cherish Her Dawn-ward call. ```From:Sri Chinmoy,The Mother of the Golden All, Agni Press, 1974
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/mga