Sitting alone on a windswept mountain,
The thoughts that come to me are wordless
Filling me with nothing but gladness
For, as long as You remember me,
I am not truly alone.
In my darkest hour,
Tinged with fragile bitterness,
I find You in Your infinite Grace and Mercy –
A part of You in the center of my whirlwind soul
And I find the path again.
This is the way I must go –
The road that Sufis take home –
Empty of the extra things that serve
To trample the heart and imprison the mind.
Will I ever truly know that wealth is nothing
And fashion is but fickleness
Of the world below?
Not til now did I discover
That everything is You, the rain and night…
So I keep them close to me
To have a reason, a light.
I want to have the inspiration
In that call to prayer,
A lonely voice calling without
Pretense of airs –
“God is great, God is great…”
If only I had ninety-nine mountains
To carve Your Names upon
And if only I had the voice to call with…