The Blinding Vision

Many times it so happens I can’t see far,

It’s all misted, eyes, mind’s eyes, haze settles like pebbles in a pond,

All I see is haphazard patterns; patterns, I don’t understand,

If they hold any meaning, it escapes me completely,

I am, in that moment blind,

And how beautiful this blindness, it takes me further in,

I can’t see, yet, there’s knowing, here in the depths of randomness,

The ordinary mind gasps at the extraordinary vision that surrounds me.

The Song of the Sufi Masroof