A Harvest with no grain

While the believers are reaping infinite rewards in the Holy Month, the poet laments he hasn’t earned a grain in the devout harvest

Hey Tasbih! Ramadan has begun
A week is about to pass since then

The believers:
Busy in long prayers
Reciting from His Book
Verse after verse
Their bodies:
Bound with his Fear
Their souls:
Dancing in his Love

But this hypocrite
Is robbed of any benefit
No tears have yet come
To makes his eyes wet

Those around him
Reap rewards like harvest
Yet, not a grain has he
For the hopes to invest

Remember the lessons
You freely imparted
Within a short time
You made Him close-hearted

Although not near
You stay
I plead to you, hey Tasbih:
For me pray

‘May the Merciful Him
Increase my little faith
So that like you, I too
In His Love could bathe!’

November 2003