My Lord is the night jasmine that fills the nostrils in the warm summers eve.
My love is the creator of all and the origins of our manifestation.
His words are sweet to taste like berries from bushes grown by the sea.
His thoughts are more pure than a newborns first yearning.
The mist lifts from my vision and the way is
made clear.
(illustration by Theresa Rogers Grand-daughter)
No comments:
Post a Comment