From those quiet moments…

Standard

In the smell of crushed petals

The music of Sufi saints

I try to see myself

Not in confusion

But to observe

Some aspects within

That have been silenced

By life’s swift blows.

 When I pause and listen

A tiny voice keeps whispering

there is never an end

to all the things you need to know

but also not a destiny

that predetermines

what you can or can not be.

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