Dhikr Poem by Sumita Jetley

In Multan's Sacred Halls

In Multan's sacred halls, a tale unfolds,
Of Aarif, the Qawwal, whose voice in verses told.
A vessel of divine love, his melody so pure,
In a courtyard old, where souls find their cure.

The Circle of Dhikr

Sheikh Ilyas leads, as dusk gives way to night,
A circle forms, in Dhikr's soft-spoken light.
'La ilaha illallah, ' they chant, a heavenly sound,
In every uttered word, a piece of the Divine is found.

A Qawwal's Role

Then Aarif steps forth, harmonium in hand,
Not just a singer, but a bridge to a distant land.
With a nod from the Sheikh, his voice takes flight,
Verses of love and longing fill the mystical night.

The Divine Dance

As the crescendo nears, Aarif feels a divine embrace,
Lost in Sama, he's floating in an endless space.
The singer, the song, and the Divine become one,
A harmonious whole, a setting sun.

A Revelation Shared

When the music ends, tears in many an eye,
Sheikh Ilyas speaks, 'Tonight, we touched the sky.
Aarif, you're more than a Qawwal, you're a divine link,
A bridge to God, helping us all to think.'

And so, in Multan's corners, where seekers dwell,
The tale of Aarif and his divine song continues to swell