Life poetry has lost its appeal,
Dried up as passiontide returns to its seasonal course,
Savor lost, life dragged out, devotion folded;
Soul drifts aloft,
Minutes become hour, hours turn to day.
Soul swims in a lost ocean;
Not of boredom, not routines, just being undetermined,
Like mind wandering, boat drifts, smiles turns into loose hung-down lips.
Thoughts cease while body functions mechanically;
Life is set adrift along dimming hopes.
Then the image of folded hands in prayers is reshaped.
Heavenly blessing bestows most attentive love.
Sinner who did surrender wakes up from his slumber
Hope sparkles; fresh creation unfolds
Soul's enkindler soothes balm to His Heart
She smiles and loves with passion again
She no longer floats adrift or exacts every detail of spiritual concerns,
Just let herself nourished and taken into the mystical unknown
Soul is enclosed and led into horizon of divine immensity.
The world sees her no longer but they are certain that she is safe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem