Transported to His world
Under His demand
He lets me collect few words
Flowers from His realm
A capture of an instant rapture
With a handful of insights
A borrowed hand
Holding a pen..
Words utter what
The mind conceives not
A gift a reward providing
Some sort of delight
“I”, a voice of “He”
A device in his hand
Yearns to be…
His loyal servant
Shiny at day and velvet at night.
Mich
Beautiful
my my…what is this mich? u r simply fabulous. Your poetry seems to be touched by a heart of “Sufi”…the one who is drenched in love with god…love your poem and love you for who you are…simply beautiful