In the morning
When I began to wake,
It happened again—
That feeling
That you, Beloved,
Had stood over me all night
Keeping watch,
That feeling
That as soon as I began to stir
You put your lips on my forehead
And lit a holy lamp
Inside my heart.

—Hafiz.

Everyone should be so lucky. I have Moy Moy in my life and in my heart to keep me attentive to the mysteries of this world, to the depths and heights a soul can reach and to the instant connection between this poem and this gaze.

Thanks Natasha for pointing me toward Indu‘s blog where I found this amazing offering from Hafiz.