Multifarious notes

The journey of words ends,

They have served their purpose; they can go no further,

At this great height, the narrow path becomes a vast open space,

Where phrases, verses, narratives, eulogies, have no meaning,

Their resonance once so powerful,

Is lost like pebbles in a pond,

With each passing day, their hold on the tongue diminishes,

Like colorful stones by the seaside, they languish in vain,  

I fear that never again will words adorn these lips,

Certainly not with the fervor that they once did.

In the great depths of stillness,

Are immeasurable treasures, of invaluable proportions,

Words are far too poor, meager, to do justice do these riches,

In the hum of a bird, I find more meaning,

Then why shouldn't I sing, be the bird with the wings?

In singing there’s joy, absolute, uncontained,

Where the dry, pretentious letters become melodious, multifarious notes…

The Song of the Sufi Masroof