From the window of the soul, He oversees all,
Each deed's thread, a cloak, the measure it receives.
What the Divine wills, that shall be, O heart,
What the Divine wills, it shall be.
Why bruise the tender heart with sorrow's weight?
Why fill the eyes with tears, a mournful tide?
Each act's echo, a harvest reaped, they say,
No mortal hand can alter fate's design.
What the Divine wills, it shall be, O heart,
His name, a cleansing tide for the fallen,
Hold faith within, a beacon in the night.
Do your deeds, O mind, your duty's call,
Release the grip of longing's hollow ache.
I show you the path, O heart, I show you.
What the Divine wills, it shall be, O heart,
To knock upon the door of the Highest,
Awakening the unseen, the sacred light.
My Giver, a generous soul, a fountain,
Will never deny the water of grace.
Why lose your patience, O heart, your peace?
What the Divine wills, it shall be, O heart,
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