Bosom Of Love

Everything surrounding you is precious,

Special in a way, that my breath wants to hold you a little longer,

Gulp it down like flavored milk,

The tips of my ears tingle at your very touch,

In wanting to bury my face in the bosom of your love,

I experience, your kindness, your mothering,

In every country, every street, every tree, the wind blows,

But in the land of my birth, she has a special quality; she’s mine,

It’s her I breathe,

It’s her, I feel, as I return home,

Home is home because nowhere in this world does she flow,

Like she does where I was born.

The Song of the Sufi Masroof