Saturday, September 6, 2008

Return from the Journey Pilgrimage

Harken! the gong of duty's call, Alas,
The hour of farewell has come to pass,
But this heart is left buried 'neath the grass,
Nourished by fragrant soil, beyond surpass.

These eyes are dim with tears, this head bent low,
These lips refuse to utter thoughts that flow,
Thro' the silent air, sympathetic breezes blow,
And rays of light spread forth their brilliant glow.

A sacred bond awaits across the sea,
That dares to link this piece of clay with Thee,
O Thine own strength pour on a frail trustee,
That mouldeth a true and worthy devotee.

This life is pledged to every faithful friend,
Those selfless service to our Murshid lend,
Thence, in humbleness, their loving call, I tend,
Storing within, this yearning 'till the end.

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