In response to those who enquire about what gifts has the poet brought from the land of Meem
I Too Packed My Bag of Desires
Just as the fish cannot last long away from the ocean and the body needs the soul to remain warm, the lover has to return to where he belongs
Let us March to Meem
At these dark times when we have gathered at the funeral of our humanity, the only remedy for any hope is in the Beloved of God
Bury me not but in YOUR Infinite Grace
We may be guilty on all counts before the Divine Law, but that should not stop us from seeking His Grace, though we are unworthy of it.
Thus I Greet, my Heartbeat
Despite aspiring and expressing love for the Beloved Meem in the sweetest and dearest of metaphors, the poet still feels they are inadequate.