I remember …
My mother loved me, her world.
My father loved me, his dream.
My home loved me, its ‘supreme’.

I remember …
I prayed with the blooming dawn,
I played with the glowing sun.
My life, the nectar fun.

I remember …
I sang with the twinkling stars,
I danced with the floating moon.
All lost, alas, too soon.

I remember, I remember, I remember.

Excerpt from “My Flute” by Sri Chinmoy