Poem Hunter
A Magical Guitar

A Magical Guitar


One day I dreamed,
The fall of the sun,
I tried to catch the light -
That was scattered,
In the palm of my heart,
I stretched my arms,
Around the last escaping light,

I searched for myself -
Sifting through piles of light waves,
I started running back and forth,
I hung around in the old taverns,
Sipping cup after cup,
I met with the friends of light,
Talked to the lovers of music,
Rubbed the shoulders with great mystics,
Sat with ascetics and scholars,
In the solitary corner in my hermitage,
I spent long hours meditating,
reflecting on my light being,
I went up the hills and down the
To look for a divine master,
Who would tell me the hidden truth,

Good God! I met an old faqër,
On a little island in a wooden hut,
He gave me a magical guitar,
But forbade me to play on it,
I went into my balcony stealthily
Playing at the guitar, listening with heart
The divine tunes, making endless circles around me


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