Soul Heaves

Death is inevitable and certain is the decay

After your loss I might not live long anyway

How this young man wished his beloved would stay

How the moon outshines the light of the stars at night

Higher than all passions, is his passion’s height of heights

‘My Lord, you see my state, my poverty, and my starvation

During invocation, you listen to my silent conversation

Were you to punish me for over a thousand years

Even then my hopes in you wouldn’t disappear’

For wealth hasn’t deluded

The soul’s strength isn’t diluted

Neither has growth concluded

There’s something else that’s eluded

That which is muted..

That which is much deeper rooted

Tears well up dripping daintily by the knees

Prayer mats drench in the depth of sorrow’s seas

The flavour this evening begets soul heaves

It’s from الله