An Art Of Loving Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

An art of loving

My heart is ignorant
About what is present
Inside my heart
Is it secret passion and art?

I was no special
Only ordinary and simple human
I had inherited music
And formed music lover as basic

I never sung
Love songs
But it aired
Good melody to be admired

I feel really in love
That crept silently, I believe
I was unaware
It remained silent there

My flute sang in admiration
And that how grew the relation
I sang only on love
And whole life thrived and drove

I know nothing
And especially for attachment and feeling
It has just taken place
I am unable to keep pace

The love has no religion
And belongs to no region
It has universal acceptance
I have taken simple chance

I may not malign
But sustain
It's emergence in heart
Is it not simple music lover's art?

It has direct blessings from the heaven
I stand inclined
But will be joined by?

As it is named holy or divine