Author: merja
Date:Mar 7 2009
For Sanam. The desert calls, beemar-e vatan, (homesick) And somewhere a Baz is born (falcon/Soul) And someday upon my shoulder will ride. And somewhere there is a host For the spirit seeking a way from the world to abide. Faith is a piece of the heart, Torn from our flesh, And sewn into our eyes, nose, ears, and fingertips. And when we speak, It is the blood gushing Within the jugular of our neck, As faith pours from our mind Spilling out, quenching words, From the well of our mouth.