The Unseen Host Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

The pen bows down,
To absorb the sweetness of the sight,
Imagination is like wishing a dark lane,
Like washing dreamy eyes, with rose water.
From the curl of hair to the curve of foot
From and to the tips of fingers.
Your whole self is transparent, with happiness
You have written volumes on the pages.
All that transcends the comprehensible being.
The silence is the unseen host; we are
Face to face gazing into each other’s eyes.