Never Without You

My most precious gift is that of hope,
Not the one that comes with promises,
For they are mere shackles,
I speak of hope,
Hope of a better tomorrow,
The kind that sings,

But not in anticipation,
The song flows from the creator,
Turning sobs into bright spots of laughter,
Words into a great storm of feelings,
A meal into a sacred offering,
Like the first morsel in a lover’s mouth.

Of all the emotions the mind experiences,
From despair to anger, to lust to loneliness,
In surrender, the spirit is pure,
And it calls forth an avalanche of events,
That buries the ugliness in the snow of love,
Ah, beautiful is life,

Blessed,
Never without you.
 

The Song Of The Sufi Masroof