The lord of beauty enters the soul
as a man walks into an orchard in spring.
Come into me that way again.
Like a fresh idea in an artist's mind,
you fashion things before they come into being.
You sweep the floor like the man
who keeps the doorway.
When you brush a form clean,
it becomes what it truly is.
You guard your silence perfectly
like a waterbag that does not leak.
You live where Shams lives,
because your heart-donkey
was strong enough to take you there.
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