White Rose - by Arfa Karim

In the storm
Stands the white rose
tumultuous waves
of destruction abound her

Yet tall is the white rose
strong in the face
Of the sensed doom around her
And she does not bow down

Pure is the white rose
In the compost earth
growing eternal strength
in the nights that so hurt

I see not the white rose
She is so far away
But I long to protect her
But only the words can I say

So I send her my words
And my poets heart
To help her when
there is hope to see her through

Be Strong little flower
Your heart will guide true
And as long as you want
I will always talk to you …

Arfa Karim Randhawa

Love has nothing to do with five senses - Rumi

Love has nothing to do with five senses and six directions:
its goal is only to experience attraction exerted by the Beloved.
Afterwards, perhaps, permission will come from God:
the secrets that ought to be told with be told
with an eloquence nearer to the understanding
that these subtle confusing allusions.
The secret is partner with none
but the knower of the secret:
in the skeptic's ear
the secret is no secret at all.

Rumi

Ranjha Ranjha Kardi..........

Stand by my side..

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Say u love me,
if u really mean it ...

Say u miss me?
if u really feel it ...

Walk into my life,
if u promise 2never walk out ...

Look at me and tel me 'ur the One'
if u dont have any doubt ...

Cherish me forever beloved,
hold me nice and tight ...

Whisper sweet words to me,
sweetheart stay with me all life ...

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Muharram Poem

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With the dim light of the crescent moon
The New Year unfurls insidiously
Like black clouds of Monsoon
Casting shadows of doom and gloom

Thick shades of black that drape the earth
Writhing and bleeding as the wind brings images -
A Severed arm, a pierced throat, a headless body
O my Abbas! O my Ali Asghar! O my Hussain!
Dripping black blood like black gold
That energizes the rusty dead soul

The black garb of night
Devoid of color and pleasure
Hides the vibrant colors of truth
Pure and untainted
Only to be seen with the spirit of the eye
The spirit of the seeker seeking the truth

Truth in its gleaming armor
Faces the black beast in the Yazids,
The blackened hearts of the Qabils,
The blinding blackness of ignorance

The rare black rose of the desert
Gives up its precious petals to the winds
The fragrance drifting in the valleys and hills of time
The scent of the Tuba Tree
The scent of Yusuf’s shirt
The scent of the poetry of Ali
The heavenly scent of pure divine beings

The banner falls with a loud crash
But the words like seeds scatter far and wide
The black fertile earth
Brings forth a celebrating green of hope
Truth after all can never die

Composed by Raihana Yusufali
(Courtesy : http://www.tebyan.net/index.aspx?pid=82064)
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