In the middle of Masjid,
When I prostrated
Under the wood-paneled roof
Decked with the beads of precipitation,
An exhilarating moan of wind
And sat on my blazed eyelashes
After stirring my awaiting eardrums.
I heard in the humming of this wind,
The soul warming Azaan of ‘Bilal’ (RA)
And my eyes felt the kiss of devotion.
But who on earth shall speak,
The rumbling of my mad heart,
To the innocence of the wind-
The complaining reverberations
Will not cease untill it brings,
If not Mohammad (SAW),
Then the Fragrance of Mohammad (SAW)!