From The Real Constantly Comes Poem by Mohammad Younus

From The Real Constantly Comes



From the real constantly comes,
The sound of a flute;
The flute is not made of the reed;
The flutist is himself,
The listener of his own flute;
He sips the flute-music like wine;
He flutes more and more,
And sips the music more;
Until he is fully drunk;
He starts to fall into the high clear silence,
And forgets all images and impressions of duality.

MyKoul

From The Real Constantly Comes
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