The Sanctuary

You are my freedom, you are the concealment.

You are the freedom, you are the concealment.

You are like a weeping cherry tree
in scorching time resembling Sahara.
A reader thirsty and dry seeks
a shade under the wings wide open.
While cooling-off bathing in the
shower of your love – the blossoms.

Wishing time to be forever in your arms…

You are like a tree house in the forest
in period of beastly gloom and noise.
A sightseer slips in and locates a
window to the earth and the heaven.
While inhaling the fumes of foliage and
hearing chorus of beings – the stasis.

Wishing noise to be symphony in your arms…

You are like a rare vintage ride
in holidays of the Christmas.
A writer insomniac tucks in and
discovers the lucid inspirations.
While dreaming, travels in the time,
as reels roll back – the classic.

Wishing vacation to be endless in your arms…

You are like a misty lone highway
in a moonless night of Summer.
A wanderer cruises to trace no man’s
land hearing songs of past galaxies.
While flirting with breeze like leaf,
kissing fluorescent bokeh – the stars.

Wishing light to be resistless in your arms…

You are like an island undiscovered
in eves of the treacherous storm.
A seafarer, stumbles up on the shore
and engages in a dance of serenity.
While learning a heaven unknown,
awes in marvel – the serendipity.

Wishing eves to be speechless in your arms…

You are like a shack of woods
in snow heavy nights of Alaska.
A vagabond slides in, finds a
comfort beside the fire place.
While reading from a window the
spells of the nature – the auroras.

Wishing night to be frozen in your arms…

You are like a holy sanctuary
in times of questions to the past.
A sinner steps in, to confess the
deeds, to sink in heavenly chant.
While, loosing self into mosaics,
baptizing in rhythm – the ambiance.

Wishing questions to be answers in your arms…

I seek you…
In days unreadable,
In hours overflowing,
In restless vacations…
In nights moonless and barren,
In eves of uncertainty – blindness,
In goosebumps-enticing chillness,

At all times of repentance…

… are my safe house.
You are the freedom, you are the concealment.

From havens to the heavens,
my soul has traveled back and forth,
acquiring a youth, losing the age.
You are – everywhere I look,
everything is – where you’re found.

My beloved,
you’re my lotus, my shell, my oasis,
my drive to the peaks,
my journey to the valleys,
you’re my haven – the safest,
my abode for perpetual resting.

Your embrace is my eternal resting place.

Your embrace is my eternal resting place.

– Dedicated to the beloved. And to the lover no ordinary Khwaja “Garib Nawaz” Moinuddin Chishti, a revered Sufi saint whose annual Urs is currently in progress at his shrine in Ajmer, Rajasthan, India. ‘Urs’ means wedding, in Sufi metaphors it’s referencing that in death the lover is finally wedded to the beloved, as his light mixed in the eternal ocean. Millions of pilgrims visit his shrine to attend the Urs, an anniversary of a wed-lock that resulted from a mystic bond.

Note: This poem is a sequel to a poem:  “Oh My Beloved!“. Reading poems in succession would make a more absorbing read.

Art/ Image Credits:

1. The Pearl – By Surrealistic Painter, Vladimir Kush.
2. Two intertwined mermaids, Yin-Yang Tattoo.

4 thoughts on “The Sanctuary

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