The Mystic Soul Poem by Sumita Jetley

In a city that knows no pause,
Lies a café with a spiritual cause.
'Mystic Soul' is its sacred name,
A sanctuary where the soul's not the same.

Here sits Saleem, Murshid so wise,
Guiding Mureeds 'neath urban skies.
Iram comes in, her heart ablaze,
Seeking peace in a worldly maze.

'O Murshid, how? ' she earnestly asks,
'To find calm in life's relentless tasks? '
He says, 'Be peace, don't just seek,
Listen to your heart, let its whispers speak.'

As weeks to months do hurriedly fly,
Iram finds answers to her 'how' and 'why.'
The city roars, yet within these walls,
Time itself to a soft whisper falls.

Once more comes Iram, her aura bright,
Transformed by wisdom, a beacon of light.
'O Murshid, the waves I've come to hear,
They guided me to someone greater, near.'

They sit and sip in hallowed space,
Two souls connected in spiritual grace.
Outside, the city hums its ceaseless song,
Inside 'Mystic Soul, ' they both belong.

Amid the rush, they've found their peace,
A timeless tale in an urban lease.
Tradition and modernity hand in hand go,
In a café where the heart finds its eternal glow.