Through the clouds and the trees and the silent space in
between,
Like a lightning struck sky, a most benign smile rises from within,
Like tendrils escaping a neatly tied bun, it plays on the
lips,
Gentle as it’s innocent,
Soft as it’s luminous,
Not for a man, or a woman, or a child, or a thing,
This smile is for God, it arises in the being, an earnest
prayer, a quiet song …
 |
| The Song of the Sufi Masroof |
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