What Was He Doing, The Great Old Man Poem by Mohammad Younus

I.
What was he doing, the great Old Man,
down in the grove of reeds by the lake?
Spreading melodies, scattering and splashing
musical waves into the atmosphere,
yet never breaking the golden silence of the lake.

II.
He tore out a reed, crafted a flute for me
from the deep, cool grove of reeds.
I held the flute, playing my sweet Song of Love.

III.
Interrupted as the Great God responded,
playing His own long lute, the Song of Love.
I drew closer to the unseen flutist,
immersing in melodious tunes,
moving from outer to inner rings,
lost in infinite depths.

IV.
'This is the way, ' laughed the Great God,
laughing as I sat beside Him in my heart.
The only way since Time began,
making music so I might remember
the First day,
when I breathed my spirit into you,
creating you with my power.

V.
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Divine Voice,
echoing in mind, heart, and soul,
binding me to the lofty Divine Pole.
The sun on the horizon shines upon me,
white lilies and lotuses revive and bloom,
migratory water birds return,
singing sweet songs of homecoming.

MyKoul