My Beloved,
The thoughts of you brings peace to my wavering soul
A refreshing dew, that drops on my tongue to quench my thirsty lust.
Your still voice rings on the door of my inwardness
You awaken me with the roar of your might.
If I have to understand your Paragon, I will travel a billion times; to and fro, still, I won't quantify the depths of your Pulchritudinous being.
You are incorporeality, a mystery I cannot untangle.
Your transcendence and immanence make me awestruck.
My beloved, I have a bequest, preferable to an Alabaster box.
STEWARDSHIP'.
So, I lay earth of fecundity as grout on my heart,
I will water it with the pages of your precepts, that it may sprout branches of purpose and fulfilment.
