God writes me poems
with every sunset.
The trees, stretching up
like the hands
of the whirling Earth-Dervish.
Oh! When will I learn to love
the way Hafiz and Rumi love?

When will I learn to embrace every moment,
to surrender everything to God?

I hear you waiting for an answer.
Perhaps when waiting
has also been surrendered
and there is only one
person writing and reading these words,
my Love will be complete.

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