Innermost Conversation

JapansesSittingPosture.jpg

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.”

(Poem excerpt from Nocturnal Light)

© 2003 Aïda Touré

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Islam, Love, Poetry, Sufi Poetry, Sufism

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s