How beautiful is detachment,
Like a string of pearls scattering on the ground, not caring where
or how far they fall,
Bouncing away on the mosaic floor, like little children running
away to play,
Hiding in corners where they won’t be found,
Detached from the world around, the shouts, the cajoling, the blackmail
of words,
No promise of gifts will draw them out,
They have found their sanctum leaning against a wall, a tree, a
truck, a dream or nothing at all.
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| The Song of the Sufi Masroof |
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