I Forget You

When I go out in the world I forget you,
 Trudging through fields and unknown roads,
 Brown as the unwanted chaff from the wheat, blown away by the blazing wind,
 Lost like a calf on a crowded street, running left, right, afraid, wide-eyed,
 I return, I return thirsty, parched like the mud caked around bare feet,
 I return to rest in you, to wet my lips with a prayer of your name,
 To drink till the light from your eyes blots the harshness of days and darkness of nights,
 I return, for, there is no balm more soothing than your hand,
 I return, for, you alone are my haven, dear God.

The Song of the Sufi Masroof