Innermost Conversation

From your lips
to my ears, soft winds
alternate, circulate
then elated, they say:

my love, we are mixed.
You are honey
I am milk, both
stirring in a bowl,

we feed the poor
inside, the noble
inquirer who longs
for His Paradise.

Such truths-thoughts
nurture, they climb
to the higher world
then they slip their joy

to all in a whisper:
we too are slaves
to His Holy Unity!
So they dance and

polish our essence,
we experience healing
on this Way. No more
discord amongst us when

the Word reaches us,
no misunderstanding,
only one love-flow
only one conversation

which soul already knows.
No stutter, nor timidity,
only simplicity: only clarity.
How sacred is companionship!

~Nocturnal Light
© 2004 Aida Toure’

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