Stephen Gill's Sufi Sonnet 56
Sonnet?56
I garden to offer fresh roses to you. As I rightfully water their fragrant spell radiates me and the obvious appearance of their unrivalled beauty brightens me. I grab sticking thorns becoming their fallen petals living and dying for you. The dignity of their soothing hue is my mastering mania and their sunny sight lighten when I write. They make me sing and cry. To humble my pride their energizing gaze enters into animated dialogue as a saint or a sage. In the pagoda of truth and faith you are the bounty of the bride at best, blessed and benign.?
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