There’s religion in the heart, a hot spring of ecstasy,
A song without sound, a poem strung of beads,
A prayer without lips,
It’s here the eyes droops,
To rise in another sky,
And be left speechless at the innate divinity that fills mankind,
Do you not see this oneness running through and through?
It’s the flowering of the thousand petaled lotus, brilliant and pure.
A song without sound, a poem strung of beads,
A prayer without lips,
It’s here the eyes droops,
To rise in another sky,
And be left speechless at the innate divinity that fills mankind,
Do you not see this oneness running through and through?
It’s the flowering of the thousand petaled lotus, brilliant and pure.
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| Photo courtesy - The Song Of The Sufi Masroof |
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