Me, The Supreme Center Poem by Nazmul Haque

The real music is already set
deep inside the heart
and every outside music is just
the reflection.
The real rhythym is aleady there
inside the heart,
the physical movement is just
the imitation.

The real perfume is already set
within the core of the heart
What the flower has is not its own.
Think of the hand that is behind the rose
And see the real fragrance comes
from the hand,
What the rose gives is just
a borrowed thing.


The real beauty is not in the face
Real beauty is in the loving eyes.
A beautiful face is just a cover
Until it's reflected into the mirror of love.
Ask a mother if her child is beautiful-
And see none is less beautiful in this world.