He is whirling,
Devout in his movements,
The aches in his legs mean nothing,
Physical exertions to praise the upper,
Let the spiritual ecstasy never cease,
Spin and praise,
Upon the sunburned steps of Istanbul,
His ebony robes appear a turbine,
The whirling continues,
A trance-like tornado of limbs,
Arousing his soul,
Spiral in wajad,
This Dervish and his euphoric twirl,
Is closer to immortality than I could dream,
Each priestly rotation brings further enlightenment,
The whirling shall not stop,
Not until salvation bears its head.
Awesome poem! ❤ very very good!
You are too kind! Thank you verily! ❤️
The Oldschool Harlequin
How do you do these simple illustrations so expressively aaaa. I can never comprehend the magic. The poem is amazing but it’s always your illustrations that really make me curious about what the poem will be saying 🙈😍
Really? I always think they’re quite basic if I’m honest. I honestly appreciate the kind words though. ☺️
The Oldschool Harlequin
Nyah, they might not be ornate or exquisite but they capture the essence of the subject so well, I think that makes them really good illustrations! 🖤
Thank you, I really do try hard with them. ☺️
The Oldschool Harlequin