Daily Whisper

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Hinabandi – Poem #1

In the perishable sight there shall be no moisture,
Whatever will be, shall be a mirage;
In the foreign sigh of the Hopeful Heart, there shall be no blood
Whatever will be, shall be unique;
Often I dwell on this consciousness:
My Heart, you are in melancholy, will you never again be joyous?;
For let it be, that in the heavens the ruling moon abides for now,
But is there a doubt tomorrow the sun will not rise?;
Separation may be in the discernment of the depth of the moments (worlds),
Though the dream of “It is I’ is it no dream?; Who ‘I’, call me of-Essence, not ’Asaad’;
Will also the union of Love not be pure from existence?

– Nature of I –

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