As mist on morning’s horizon
Layers that hovers on fields
Droplet combed minutely
From foam on the curling waves
Evaporates in the wind
Lifted higher than mountains
So cloud will return to the sea
As sea will return to sky
Sunlight dissolve them in
Tumbling and rising shadows,
Come then my friend
Let us pass through as gently.
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Touched… beautiful, beautiful. Pass thru gently… loved it completely.
This one, I will reblog, if I may…
Of course you may, I had a dream last night that I was rising and falling in the shadows of the clouds.
I hope this poem might reflect something of how the Sufi master would face dying, seeing it in its natural state, as one would with the season elements themselves.
When writing it I was reflecting on what you wrote about attending the Urs given in honour of your teacher and his passing onwards to his Beloved…gently.
Beautiful…
Passing by to read your gentle words
Thank you Andrea for passing by gently :)
Thanks, I wish the english vocabulary had more words, thanks again.