The Wings of the Simorgh

My sweetest Lotus, My dreams are filled of visions of you and I, Our souls intertwined and bound by an invisible thread, Like two moths dancing near a flickering flame, Intoxicated by the presence of each other and God, And the heat and passion of the glow on our wings. These dreams are no comparison to the flood of emotions you bring me, Like the lotus on the swamp,  You cleanse the impurities of my soul and brings beauty to the world. Oh Bestower of Light, Whatever you wrote of love before, Does not do justice to the truth this simple poet understands, How can I claim to speak of love, It is not to be spoken of,  But to be felt down to your core, That constant reminder of God in our connections.

She is a lovely blooming Lotus, And I am but a dragonfly. I land on her soft open petals, And drink the sweet nectar from her heart, Leaving me drunk from the sweetness she brings to the world. I rub my wings on her silky petals, Thanking her for the love she provided me, Tell her that her flower is the only one who has sustained my life, And prevented me from drowning in the murky waters on which she is floating. I ready my wings to fly away, She closes her petals as I hover over her, I leave a teardrop onto her closed leaves, To remind her again of her beauty. I fly away to distant lands, Where no such Lotus flowers bloom. If I had no wings, I’d stay within her purple flower forever, But alas, My wings take me away from where my heart belongs.