I tell my prayers on the beads of love, strung with my devotion. I direct them beyond all names—God, Spirit, Brahma, Christ, Shankara, Krishna, Buddha, Mohammed—for all names are Thine. And I shun no name, for I know Thou dwellest in all forms.
In Thy cosmic dramas on the stage of time, and in Thy myriad acting roles, Thou hast assumed innumerable names. Behind them all, too, I know Thy one, changeless name: Eternal, Conscious, Self‐existent Bliss.
Many times have I played with Thee. Many songs of Thine have I sung. On the ocean‐bosom of Thy eternal life I’ve been nurtured by Thee as a tiny drop of life. I remember Thy warm touch through the centuries whenever, feeling the chill of separation, I turned homeward to Thee. Again, in this daylight of remembrance, let me play with Thee. Let me sing Thy songs.
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37. Hover Over the Minaret of My Expectations, O Mighty Spirit
