123.
A droplet of the dew on the face of this rose
called Love
fell on that dust which was, in the beginning,
to bring forth this clay doll we call our body.
The Love-tempered blade of existence tore
into the spirit,
bleeding a drop of light, which we call our heart,
Suns blazed,
worlds sang,
the grandest feat of creation was achieved.
~Nobody, Son of Nobody, Poems of Shaikh Abu-Saeed Abil-Kheir
 |
| Gaye Abbott |
No comments:
Post a Comment