They know not of what lies beyonder,
for they care not,
but for all words, the message
is lost on them:
For a coin and a meal
it is but atmosphere and vibrations
in which we exist.
Yet for a taste
of the spirits which dwells
they throw themselves for it
but it flows to no where
for it is picked and carried
through the door.
For from the stillness comes not a storm
but an invisible hand
which touches thy forehead:
Be thou at the altar,
for fate is but a caress
these are the ways of the Sufis -
Remember us!
For exaltation
they surround themselves
with the sages and prophets
to sate their thirst
for their wells have run dry
they are no more.
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