These trembling lips are
Scribbling quills.
This chanting tongue, a
Parchment clean.
These grinding teeth,
Squeezing ink,
Inscribing names with
Lovers zeal.
Saintly souls and
Holy men
Labour hard
On the hallowed name.
It�s the name
When the faithful one
Toil upon
Night till morn,
Pearly Gates
Open wide
For generations
On either side.
Name lies prostrate before Name,
Behold,
It is God bowing to God.
On these roads
Unknown, unloved,
One's creed drifts about.
Syed Ahmed Shah
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/zikir-of-hazrat-azan-peer-v/
