He pointed to his heart of nūr,
Said, “Taqwā: it is here,”
I place a palm upon my own
And feel the word sincere.
Then ask myself: am I among
Who judge in hallowed name?
Or on the other side, a jackal
Playing at a game?
Whatever be my malady,
The heart is hid from eyes,
But naked does it lie before
The Sight that never dies.
He pointed to his blessed heart,
Said, “Taqwā: it is here.”
Ingenious the word that fills
A heart with hope and fear.