A seeker without a spiritual comrade is worth no more than a rotten crop wrought with drought and despair- Mujeeb Jaihoon’s poem on spiritual kinship
Hey Tasbih! How sweet is His Fear
Granted to you, my dear?
Even in the words you write
You fear: none with Him compete
You coin them
With much care
None shall closer
To Him dare
And if at all by human fault
You cast upon Him a blot
You are filled with regret
Over the matter you forgot
At once, in tears-
You seek with Him refuge
Even your angelic smile
You humanly refuse
Hey Tasbih!
Why kindle
The fire of envy?
Why show me
The harvest sans rains heavy?
I am a rotten crop-
Why such a levy?
Of what use is Lord Samudiri
Sans the fleet of Marakkar’s navy?
Why remind me
Of what I lack
In the race of virtues
Why keep me back?
March 15 2004
