In My Shameful Servitude, to Love (Ramadhan Verses #4)
My beloved, you are
My earth and my heart,
My untilled soil,
My life yet to be lived,
My love yet to be felt,
My joy yet to be received,
My promise as yet unfulfilled,
My home yet to be lived in,
My precious pulse,
My dogged breath,
My inspiration,
The cloth that I wear,
The honey in my tongue,
The sweat on my brow,
My yesterday and tomorrow
My love, my companion,
My here and now.
My beloved, you have me,
And I am yours devotedly,
Do not cast me away,
Not when I am yours already,
Don’t you see?
If this is shameful servitude,
Then I do not wish
To be free.
Your weak voice
Weakens me,
You weary words
Wearies me.
Do not show me the door,
I do not wish to be where
I was before,
Before you came into my life,
For it was not I
Who opened the door.
And it was not you alone
That walked into me,
Love unlocked my lips,
And Love woke me from
My dark and restless sleep.
Will the sun now set
On the Sea of Forgiveness?
Will there be no princess to save?
No warlocks and witches to battle?
No quest for Truth, Love and Chivalry?
Tell me the answer is No,
Come and sit beside me,
I have made a pot of tea.
Let’s talk and later walk.
Just you, me
and infinity.
We all make mistakes. In a couple of hours it will be the eve of Ramadhan, so let's make up with the ones we love. Make a pot of tea and invite him/her over. No, don't wait! Do it, my friend.
Have a happy day, sunshine.
Pax Taufiqa.
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