Little
strings of my poetry,
Patching
with the warmth of this inviting locale;
That
lies dressed in a drape gifted by heaven.
I run my
mind in circles,
With
eyes gazing at the land ahead of me;
What
nectarous scent envelops this soil!
What
charisma keeps these hundred hearts at awe!
Welcome
O traveler...
This is
the land of a thousand sighs.
My
trembling feet, and a single plea...
“Oh
early sun of this pure land,
Do not
retire back, only today.
Let me
walk around this path, in longing of beloved.
Let your
radiance cast its light for me...
I
fear..., perhaps my vision lays too dark for my fortune
to shine.
Only
today, let me roam around this masjid-
And
let-go of my sigh. Let it find my beloved.”
Oh
reader of my poetry...,
Astonish
not, for this is to me, my pilgrimage.
Do not
ask me why I encircle this masjid, or fall on my knees,
Crying
out “Where are you O generous son of Ahmed”
It’s all
the hidden expressions of the heart,
That I
concealed for years. |