I am a raindrop
cradled in the center of a hyacinth sprout.
My silhouette shown
In its verdant cup.
There below the azure,
above the green leaf’s blade,
stands a circle of dervishes
in reflected shades of gray.
A silent gathering
in stillness and devotion,
to be swallowed by the blossom,
as a drop of water sates the ocean.
Not all bards inspire others with their performances. Dervish dancers enter a near-mystical trance that allows them to push their bodies beyond normal limits.
hm, yes, true. Nor do all dervishes dance.