There is a yawning pit underneath you,
and you are dancing overhead.
Pray, Sir, how can you bring yourself to dance?
See, the riches you are amassing here,
nothing of them will go with you.
Pray, Sir, how can you relish your food and drink?
There is a way between voice and presence
where information flows.
In disciplined silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes.
There is a poem
inside the heart of mankind
waiting to be born.
(Previously published in Poems Md, Apr 2008)
There is a life-force within your soul, seek that life.
There is a gem in the mountain of your body, seek that
mine.
O traveler, if you are in search of That
Don't look outside, look inside yourself and seek That.
There is a jewel, which no Indian mines
Can buy, no chymic art can counterfeit,
It makes men rich in greatest poverty,
Makes water wine; turns wooden cups to gold;
The homely whistle, to sweet music’s strain.
Seldom it comes, to few from Heaven sent,
That much in little, all in nought content.
There is a candle in the heart of man, waiting to be kindled.
In separation from the Friend, there is a cut waiting to be
stitched.
O, you who are ignorant of endurance and the burning
fire of love--
Love comes of its own free will, it can't be learned
in any school.
There are the words that couldn’t be twice said,
He, who said once, spent out all his senses.
Only two things have never their end –
The heavens’ blue and the Creator’s mercy.
There are holes in the sky
Where the rain gets in
But there ever so small
That's why the rain is thin.
He has ta'en on a theory, and into it
Striven to work his life — a false affair;
For every thought and feeling cannot be,
Like a mosaic, cut and trimmed to suit
Any particular design, however
Grand or beautiful.
In my youth I enjoyed the morning
And wept at night; now that I'm older
My day begins with doubt but
Its end is sacred and serene.
