The Love-afflicted Pen can write about the Beloved alone. It will only frown away if asked to praise any other— eulogizes Jahioon about the Holy Prophet

O my comrade who unraveled
The Book revealed to ‘Read!’

His face radiant with its light
His tongue coated with its sweet

Lord has raised his station
Believers keep him in high bastion

He lately asked for my rhymes
About Mim’s Miraj a few lines

I felt like a noble king
To be asked for such a thing

Who would care to ask a poor
For gold and silver filled treasure?

Who would care to find a Rose
In the burning sands of a desert?

Yet, I realized the truth once again
I a seed, Mim my real glorious grain

He’s my fact and fiction
And my notion and diction
My throbbing Affliction-
And its healing Prescription

My pen can write about Mim alone
Any else, its face shall away frown

I’ll be abased if I attempt to praise any other
My Poetic Buraq obeys not if I ride it elsewhere

Hope my friend makes the same plead-
While I cry for a helping intercede
And then a voice call out my sinful name-
‘Enter among My servants! Enter My Paradise’

Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

June 14 2012 (Rajab 24 1433 AH)