Others call me a bhaktha
Some claim I am a dervesh
Others call me a devotee
Some call me the lover
Drunk in the wine of your love
The grocers call me a madman
Running hither and tither seeking you
The merchants try to show me their wares
That I am disinterested has caught them unawares
Intoxicated I dance near your court
As the sweet scent of your divinity permeates my being
Some call you murshid
Some others call you Guru
Some call you the Qutub
While others call you God
Some call you the beloved
To them you are the world
Some called you a fakir
Others called you Awaliya or pir
Some called you as their mother or mai
Some others beckoned you as welcome Sai
Some call you Allah
Some others call you Ram
Both the beloved and I know
The truth in all the statements above
Rumi found you in Shams of Tabriz
Namadeva found you in Pandharpura with ease
In the stillness of the starry night
In the earth below and the heavens above
As the ever alert lover beholds you
The beloveds divine presence comes into view
No comments:
Post a Comment