As the clouds separate from the clouds,
And drift into the blue boundless sky,
Embrace me O Lord, for I know not what’s real,
What’s untrue?
In the your sea of worldliness, my boat is very small,
The oars are worn out and I don’t swim very well,
Each time I look up, there are reassuring patterns in the sky,
Of fluffy white clouds staring right back,
Making an unspoken pact…
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| The Song of the Sufi Masroof |
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