This one sings the most beautiful love songs.
This one lost his voice; but he writes them.
This one weeps while he recites.
This one can’t speak a word,
so he just weeps.
The sky seems to be listening,
some stars sparkle quicker than others;
I don’t close my eyes. I just watch
The wonder of the sound of voices.
Silent voices, in the dark,
whispering countless names.
I breath in, breath out,
with a name forever in my tongue,
my lips,
my throat.
I breath Your name,
exhale Your name,
in, out,
and the effect it has on my dreams
reminds me of those songs I hear,
the weeping that conforts the heart,
and the silent voices in the dark.
I don’t get tired of saying it.
I only get surprised.
Because once more letters, numbers, sounds,
dance a perfect dance,
saying, like a secret,
that life is death, that death is life,
that mixture is balance,
that Love comes through untouchable matter.
The one who sings has retreated himself.
And the one who weeps is tired.
The one who whispers is confused now.
As for me,
I am asleep.
And your name is my breath.
Maryam

Author: Sajjaad Hussian Peerbhai