The Wings of the Simorgh

Though many moons have passed  Since I last saw your face,  I have been in constant remembrance of You.   As busy as the creatures of the woods  Before the winter snow we have been,  But my mind always wanders to You,  As the drunkard thinks of wine,  Even while he is sober.   But like the drunkard,  I will give up my life  To be in your presence forever,  As you are what I live every passing day for.    O Beloved!  Intoxicate me with your presence  For with you, I am nothing.

My Heart beckons for your voice, The voice of the Sirens, Who sent many astray. But with you, O Beloved, To be lost is to be found! In losing myself, I shall find you. This world we live in, With politics destructive and egos grand, Is not a world for us. Look for me in the hidden grove, Where no man can find us. I will be on the road less traveled, as Frost told me to go. The road may be tough, But with you, I have no fears, But one, losing you. So dear Beloved, Use your light and show me the Path, So once I am lost, I can never be found.

O Beloved!  So far have I looked for You,  Across mountains and valleys,  In lands far and near,  Yet using my eyes,  I have failed to find you.   You hide,  Like children do in games,  Running through the primordial woods  Of my mind  While the beating of my heart,  Pushes you further, deeper into the abyss.  I opened my heart,  There You were Dressed in gold.  You offered me wine,  Which I drank until I was intoxicated with Love,  A love no religion can teach,  No money can buy.   When I awoke from the drunken stupor of Love,  The hangover made me long for more,  As once again  You went into hiding.  O beloved!  Bestow your light upon me  Show yourself to me  So once again I can become drunk  With wine of the Beloved.

How could the religious say they all know the spiritual path when their egos blind the eyes of the heart? One must lose their senses of the world  to find the one true sense, Love.  For it is with the sense of Love, the lover may drink the wine of the Beloved, and find the Path religions has failed to find. This path is not easy to follow, It has twists and turns like the Nile, Yet travels as slow as Everglades, Perpetually still in time, As if time itself is no longer a restriction. O Nourbakhsh! Help us close our eyes and find the path we seek! For the Beloved has smiled upon your face, And you, looking inwardly, have smiled back.