Ah! My mind often brings me behind, <br />To the unpolluted visionary age, <br />When my heart wished to dissolve, <br />Physical entity of my own being, <br />In the burning passion: love of God. <br />I wished to melt or freeze myself, <br />Standing in the scorching sun, <br />Or in the cold winds chilling the bones, <br />On some sandy rock to worship, <br />To adore Almighty shedding beads of tears, <br />That may make channels on my cheeks, <br />And spend the span of life with angelic modes, <br />But some time a low guiding whisper, <br />Emerging from some deep recesses, <br />Of the fathomless world of inner-self <br />Would spring up to converse to me, <br />“Picking up a few thorns from the path, <br />Where from advances mankind, <br />With bare sore feet is much better, <br />Than the seclusion of seventy years.”<br /><br />Muhammad Shanazar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-guiding-whisper/
