Today, again,
On the string spun from grief and pain,
I threaded blossoms; drawn from your memory.
And I plucked,
From the desert of abandoned love,
Buds which bloomed; when we were together.
Then,
I placed on your doorsteps,
Offering to the days of your memory.
Laid,
Side by side, in the vase called Desire,
The ashes of separation, the blossoms from our love.
~ Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Love doesn’t desire anything, nor it makes you do things, its something living inside you and it has it’s own desire, the desire to fulfil itself, to be like a river that keeps flowing, and never breaks its course. It doesn’t really matter what origin one belongs, love exists beyond you, and your religion, culture, age or race, and it exists beyond humanity.
“My dear one,
thou thyself art love, art lover,
and thyself art the beloved whom thou hast adored.”
~ Hazrat Shah Inayat Khan (The Dance of the Soul)
This post is a recreation my own old blog post on Wordpress,
The ashes of separation, the blossoms from our love.... in an effort to migrate from Wordpress to this interesting platform.
All images and text published in this post are my original work unless otherwise mentioned. I try to be myself here and would encourage others to do the same to build a better steemit community. If you would like to use any of these texts/stories/pictures, It is advised to mention the original source and original creator in your posts.
