In the spirit of Rumi 4

In the war-torn city, O My dearest one,
I hear a voice,

louder than the gunfire,
louder than the bombs

calling to Me; it is
a man who kneels in prayer

he does not name his nationality,
he does not name his faith,
he does not name Me as his god

how clear his voice is
as he calls to me

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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