O Divine Mother, in Thy lotus feet of blue light, the bee of my mind is engrossed. It is drinking the honey of Thy motherly love. This royal bee of Thine will drink no other honey but that which is graced by Thy perfume.
O Divine Mother, flying over all the gardens of my fancy, denying myself the honey of all pleasures, at last I found the ambrosia hidden in Thy lotus-heart.
I have been Thy busy bee, soaring through the fields of incarnations, inhaling the breath of experiences; now I will roam no more, for Thy fragrance has quenched the perfume-thirst of my soul.