Desert Oasis (a Shakespearean sonnet)

Sitting by the oasis under a palm
Feeling the warm desert wind on my face
Fixated on the Word all day long
As I’m driven closer to my Father’s grace

Observing the beauty of this oasis
The palm trees and plants are vivid green
There’s nothing like it, a perfect stasis
The Creator esteemed for such a scene

Blessed is the desert, ascetic and humble
A sanctuary for the saints, who are lowly
Where the ego deflates and crumbles
A dwelling for the unstained and holy

Relaxing at the oasis, still and calm
Enjoying my peace under the palm