The floral pollen drifts along;
The One Whom it would please,
To some odd place He dances off.
A spore who'd been amid the bud, singing praise,
It had obtained pleasant sweetness in that place.
Now in the compound of life, on a wind that's free,
The azure sky it has adored.
A bloom had come from some unknown sphere
For proclaiming Whose majesty?
Familiar though it may or may not be,
It overruns with just His love.
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Thursday, May 18, 2023
Tale of a pollen spore
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It comes from divine love. It spreads that selfsame love. In the end it is that love.
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