There is always a word with, always
It has no ending, it tapers into a song
There is always, an unending stream -
Of avowed consciousness, of distance
That we have not parted, anyways
There is a longing that shall knock
Always on your doors, always drinking
From your horizons, and always they shall
Follow the path, into the warmth of your
Velvety lap, into the breeze that revolve
Gathering your aroma, to my nostrils,
Cold sweetness on my feet, my palms
As full of dreams, as my eyes stare,
Your trail, a coming as lasting, as eternity.
There is always, that below the river flows
That up the clouds send white snows
In sinew winters, in summer there is rain.
Always they chat, the birds like children
Chatter, the beauty out of the valley,
And a silence, like nearing divinity, listening
To your warm breath and unheard whisper.

November 4,2014.

by Sadiqullah Khan

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