The words of a prayer are never lost.
How fair is my demand!
The scene is laid.
In prayer I am enlarged.

 

Greet me, O, hidden angels.
Greet me with permanent gifts:
Of my ignorance turning into wisdom.
Of my desires turning into contentment.
Of my restlessness turning into peace.

 

The words of a prayer are never lost.
How fair is my demand!
The scene is laid.
It is the month of Ramadan.

 

August 2010

                          

Geeta Chhabra

 

(From the book: An Indian Ode To The Emirates)