Stephenean Love Sonnets in Sufi, Mystic and Bhakti Traditions
Sonnets below by Stephen Gill have significant use of alliterative devices. Each is of eighteen lines in a single paragraph and consists of one hundred words. The last lines rhymes with the preceding line.
These are some peculiarities of Stephenean love sonnets to be released later in 2017. Some literary critics and academicians find traces of Sufism, mysticism and the Bhakti tradition of India. Well-known Gitanjli by Robindernath Tagore, a Nobel Laureate, was the product of the Bhakti tradition.
I feel happy to add that in Stephenean Sonnets love is the single thread that unites humans and the unity of humans is the strength of humans in love and those who are in love are united with eternity and eternity is the all-pervading power and this all-pervading power is present in every tree, in every flower and in every moment. This truth, the other name of love, is the pivot of my sonnets. This truth is the heritage of civilizations from the beginning of life and is even now, in spite of the fact that these civilizations and cultures have developed in different ages and under different geographical regions. I find this truth in the kirtans in the Hindu temples; in the quawallies at Muslim Darghas; in the songs of Gurbani in Sikh gurdwaras and in the hymns and psalms in the churches of different denominations.
Stephenean Love Sonnet 56
I garden to offer fresh roses to you.
As I rightfully water
their fragrant spell radiates me and
the obvious appearance of their
unrivalled beauty brightens me.
I grab sticking thorns becoming their
fallen petals living and dying for you.
The dignity of their soothing hue
is my mastering mania and their
sweet sight illumines when I write.
They make me sing and cry.
To humble my pride
their energizing gaze
enters into animated dialogue
as a saint or a sage.
In my pagoda of truth and faith
they are the bounty of the bride
at best, blessed and benign.
Stephenean Love Sonnet 55
Crazed creatures of dark delights
have chased our dove to a distant land
where they choke her songs
by the strings of paralyzing fear
in the wilderness of their illusive sphere.
On their sand
the blind brutes write macabre laws
whose spectre stalks here.
Its teeth have mangled
the serene sparrow of my higher self.
Let us pass this evening
listening to a nocturnal crescendo
from the bird not afar.
In the silken cocoon of your touch
my innate flair shall easily thrive.
Our love shall become the pulse
of my new rhythm in the night
as it silently dies.
Stephenean Love Sonnet 47
Night knocks noisily at the door
when I hear the rattle of volcanic fury
from the traders of terror.
They shape with inhuman creeds
strangely structured maniac beings
while our seraphs securely sleep
on the roofs of snobbish breed.
Sweetest is the bread that tastes
the days of the comforting peace.
With the hunger
that nourishes sincerity in love
I wait for your return
on a stallion to address my concerns.
Because of the frightening beast
I shall swap the days of my ease
singing simple psalms for you
from the memory’s stormless retreat.
You own all that I need.
Stephenean Love Sonnet 45
I walk with no special thoughts
along Saint Lawrence River
where I hear stunning coos
which remind mystically of you.
I sleep peacefully on the moon
with my sight on stars.
They are not vague though afar.
When they go
I will see them once more
like you, I know.
They are camps in the hive
that give reasons to be alive
as I do for you.
You stay in the nest of my safest hope
that I keep in the cave of my passion
It energizes my open approach
to see you even with my eyes closed.
Stephenean Love Sonnet 43
Meet me often
firmly when the moon is full and fair
and calmly flowing waters confide
with the infinity of wonders guiding birds
with silver light in the dark dark night.
The bathing pebbles will narrate our
courtship and town laughs and groans.
Sincerity shall not drift
even if the coldest draft blows.
Shame is just a name and
falter a ferocious foe.
Our bond is the unspoken ocean
between coasts to share unfrozen.
It is neither I nor you
nor the poet’s ink that fears
neither the gust and dew.
Our love shall ever grow
stronger, joyful and new.
Stephenean Love Sonnet 12
I seek the blessings of peace
in the ale that never dries.
At the altar of you, where the self
prostrates before the muse of lyrics,
I exalt love who is the singer of life
that keeps me alive.
I build pillars
around its spectrum of light
to keep out
the lizards of unhealthy strife.
You’re the hunger
that is the best pickle in the feast
of my unchartered territory.
My love for you has no barriers,
no color, no age, no lies
and has nothing to hide.
It renders purifying mantra of the
fatal optimism from our ageless ties.
About the author:
Stephen Gill, a multiple award winning self-exiled Indo/Canadian poet, fiction-writer and essayist, has authored more than thirty books. He is the subject of doctoral dissertations, and research papers. Thirteen books of critical studies have been released by book publishers on his works and more are on the way. The focus of his writing is love and peace. His poetry and prose have appeared in about one thousand publications. Sites: www.stephengill.ca and .stephengillcriticism.info