Stop all chanting, chattering, it has no meaning,
Only Knowing can help.
Slaves are months, years, even decades, for this Knowing has
no address.
From time to time, it rents a little place by the window of
the mind,
Giving freely what she knows, what she hears,
But her voice is so feeble that soon, it’s lost in the din
of the world,
That the spirit is hungrier than the stomach, is a little known truth.
Until, Knowing is found, life is a hunger poem, poignant and ripe,
Only Knowing can help, sadly for us, she leaves no
forwarding address. |
| The Song of the Sufi Masroof |
2 comments:
Beautifully written. The photograph is amazing.
Lubaina, Swati's talented beyond words :) Thank you for dropping by!
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