Little do lovers talk in words; more so they do with tears, testifies a poetic seeker who witnessed the joyful suffering of Meem’s admirers.
Medina is the playground
Where loving souls fly around.
Little do they talk in words;
More so do they with tears.
They praise and greet Meem
With their throbbing hearts—
For words can rarely relay
The state of their plight.
May 09 2022. Shawwal 08, 1443.
By weighing the count of forgetting against remembering, this poem proves that math always fails once the self dissolves in
Our everyday choices are emotional, not rational. We demand proof for God but never for the morning coffee.
We revolve around His “signboards” like little ones circling a merry-go-round. We run between the hills, leaving behind the barren
By weighing the count of forgetting against remembering, this poem proves that math always fails once the self dissolves in