The nature of the mind is such,
That even to describe silence it races to find words,
To put a name to the pearl grey sky gathering like the storm,
To measure in feelings, the warmth of the benevolent Sun,
It's not enough that the wind is blowing, it must label it as soothing, comforting, elevating.
In this labelling, the sky changes, cloaking, hiding, the Sun,
The wind turns away like a young girl walking away from her lover,
And the very experience of silence becomes a spurt of words.
Though, the mind knows of silence, it's yet to learn to enjoy,
To roam, to lose itself completely, absolutely in this label free world.
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| The Song of the Sufi Masroof |
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