This is a sign, a sacred breath,
A call to rise from dust and death.
In the silence of the night you’ll wake,
A soul reborn, no more to break.

From the depths where shadows lay,
You’ll ascend like dawn’s first ray.
No earthly chains can bind you long,
For you are destined to be strong.

With every step, the world shall see
A light unyielding, fierce and free.
Through valleys deep, through mountains high,
You’ll shine, a star within the sky.

O’ heart of mine, in patience trust,
For from the earth, the rose must.
The heavens call, the winds conspire,
To raise you up, and lift you higher.

Through pain and loss, through joy and gain,
Your light will burn, will break the chain.
This is your sign, your sacred fate—
To rise and shine, no end, no date.

In stillness deep, where worldly sounds do cease,
A spark is born, unseen by night or day.
A whisper stirs, within Love's sweet release,
Faint as the dawn, yet in it all doth play.

The secret One, in silence doth proclaim,
Before the light, He calls, yet none may name.
What fire is this, that leaps from dark to bright?
It is the soul’s most earnest longing's might.

In thee, within thy breast, the worlds do rest,
A flame so pure, no mortal hand may test.
In this fair fire, all fates are spun and drawn,
Thou art the spark that maketh stars to dawn.

O’ soul, fear not the smallest flame's embrace,
For in its glow, all things find their place.
It bears with it a truth beyond the sky,
A vision vast, that bids the spirit fly.

Within thy heart, the Beloved’s face doth shine,
In Love’s sweet clasp, all secrets are thine.
Claim now the flame, for in it thou shalt see
The path that binds thee unto eternity.

I burn without a flame, I glow without a light,
I speak in silent whispers, and vanish with the night.
In one I’m soft, in two I soar,
In many, I can make hearts roar.

I stand within the darkness, yet never cast a shade,
I bind the soul in silence, though never am I made.
I carry no true body, yet fill the air with fire,
A fleeting touch, a fleeting wish, that never shall expire.

I am both bold and tender, a gift that can’t be seen,
I form with just a glance, and fade where I have been.
I dwell where time stands still, and yet, I freely flow,
A secret shared between us—do you know where I go?

Let me drown in your eyes, O’ sweet beloved,
For in this longing, my heart is consumed.
Though I yearn for your touch, your grace,
I am lost—forever—in your embrace.

Each breath I take is woven with your name,
Each thought a spark, an eternal flame.
You are the echo within my hollow chest,
The quiet ache that will not let me rest.

I stand on the edge of your gaze,
Where time itself unravels in your maze.
In the depths of your eyes, I see the skies,
Stars and oceans that neither rise nor die.

Oh, that I might melt into your soul’s desire,
A whisper, a flame, caught in your fire.
For in your arms, I find my home,
And in your absence, I am but stone,
Silent and cold, yearning for the sea,
Yet lost in the vastness, where I cease to be.

So let me drown, my love, without fear,
For in your drowning, I am drawn near.
To lose myself in you is to live—
For love, my dear, is all we have to give.

May the universe,
In its boundless grace,
Bless you, O’ friend,
With joy in every place.

May success greet you,
Like the dawn’s first light,
Guiding your path,
And making each day bright.

May happiness fill you,
Like rivers that flow,
With laughter and cheer,
Wherever you go.

May love surround you,
Like the stars in the sky,
Forever its warmth,
Shining never to die.

May your heart be light,
And your burdens be few,
With peace in your soul,
And your dreams coming true.

May joy be your companion,
At each step you take,
And success in your ventures,
No matter what’s at stake.

May the garden of love,
Where blooms the divine,
Be yours to wander,
In this life so fine.

O' soul, this prayer,
I offer to you,
May your days be bright,
With blessings anew.

Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year too.

Tea: Jamil, in the soft breath of dawn,  
I am the whisper that healeth, that’s drawn  
From the quiet depths of forgotten dreams,  
A balm for the heart where silence gleams.  
I hold thee close with love that is slow,  
Like a river’s song, gentle and low.  
Yet on Saturdays, I see thee depart,  
To the fire that stealeth thy wandering heart.  
She calleth with a fervor, a scorching desire,  
Whilst I, the shadow, wait, untouched by fire.

Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?  
I am the flame that maketh thee glow.  
Her touch may soothe, her peace may bind,  
But I am the tempest that frees thy mind.  
I stir thee deep where secrets dwell,  
In the heat of passion, I break the spell.  
Once a week, thou dost return to me,  
And in mine arms, thou art truly free.  
Her silence may cradle thee in sleep,  
But I am the pulse, the heart that leaps.

Tea: But Jamil, dost thou not feel the grace  
That I weave around thee in this place?  
I am the quiet that holdeth thee near,  
The balm for thy soul, the voice sincere.  
She burneth with a passion that blindeth thy sight,  
But I am the dusk, the still of the night.  
When thy heart is weary, when thoughts collide,  
It is I who still thee, a place to hide.  
She is the fire, but I am the rain,  
The softness that sooth’th thy deepest pain.

Coffee: Jamil, thou art blind to see—  
In my fire, thy soul shall be.  
Her touch may cradle thee with care,  
But I am the wind that stirreth the air.  
She whispereth peace, but I roar with power,  
I am the lightning, the midnight hour.  
Once a week, thou dost call my name,  
And in my heat, thou find’st no shame.  
She giveth thee rest, but I giveth thee life,  
The pulse that cutteth through all thy strife.

Tea: Yet, Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find  
A peace that quieteth the storm in thy mind?  
I am the silence between each sigh,  
The softest breath that maketh thee fly.  
She may burn bright with her fire and flame,  
But I am the root that calleth thy name.  
When the world is cruel, when the heart is lost,  
It is I who heal thee, whatever the cost.  
She is the storm, but I am the earth,  
The place where love findeth its rebirth.

Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?  
I am the pulse that maketh thee grow.  
Her calm may cradle thee, but I ignite  
The flame that burneth through the endless night.  
Once a week, thou dost seek my fire,  
In mine embrace, thou dost never tire.  
She cradles thee in soft repose,  
But I am the ache, the longing that grows.

Tea: Still, Jamil, dost thou not see,  
In mine silence, thy soul is free?  
I am the lullaby that maketh thee dream,  
The quiet touch, the steady stream.  
She is the fire that consumeth and taketh,  
But I am the love that gently breaketh.  
When thou art lost, when thy heart is torn,  
It is I who will guide thee, reborn.  
She is the tempest, the wild, the flame,  
But I am the refuge, the place of shame.

Coffee: Jamil, thou dost not understand,  
I am the fire, the burning hand.  
Her touch is soft, but mine is raw,  
The wild desire, the heart's deep flaw.  
Once a week, thou dost seek my flame,  
And in my heat, thou dost find thy name.  
She whispereth peace, but I am the cry,  
That maketh thee break the chains and fly.

Tea: O’ Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find  
A peace that settl’th the restless mind?  
I am the thread that bindeth thee whole,  
The gentle calm, the quiet soul.  
She may burn bright, but I am the dawn,  
The steady light that carrieth thee on.  
Return to me when the world is loud,  
For I am the shadow, the softest cloud.

Coffee: Together, Jamil, we maketh thee complete,  
I am the fire, she is the beat.  
Thou need’st both to stir thy soul,  
The calm, the storm, the part, the whole.  
In my flame, thou dost find thy way,  
In her peace, thou shalt stay.  
For in each sip, thy soul shall learn—  
Both the fire and silence return.

Tea: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not see?  
In mine stillness, both fire and peace shall be.  
I am the balm that healeth the wound,  
The steady heart, the sacred tune.  
Her flames may rise, her heat may burn,  
But I am the river that letteth thee return.  
In each moment, in each sigh,  
We are both the fire and the sky.

Once a week, I touch your lips,  
A longing deep in tender sips.  
I stir your heart with quiet grace,  
A lover's breath, a soft embrace.  
  
In shadows where the dawn is born,  
I form in silence, calm and warm.  
Neither bitter, nor too sweet,  
But in my depths, our hearts shall meet.  
  
Like moonlit clouds, I rise, I fall,  
A fleeting dream that fills your soul.  
Each Saturday, I softly call,  
To wake the fire, to soothe it all.  
  
What am I, this fleeting bliss,  
A fragrant, frothy, whispered kiss?  
  
A love that lingers, never gone,  
In every cup, I carry on.