Free Verse # 414 (listening intently)

One day
at the rising of the dawn
I will listen to the prayer
God planted in my heart
before I was born

~

Full of my own self
I await your touch
to break me open
into a more, a beyond,
an uncontainable fountain
of overflowing love,
a hymn flowing
into the depth of the sky.

~

Besieged by the luminous hover
of the cloud of loneliness,
I long to know the warmth
of one human heart,
to feel its presence
breathing in my life.

~

An old man
in a young man’s body
watching life painting
with the brush of death.

~

My heart is a wounded place
that wounded birds seek
to pass through its fissures
and die into the sky

~

In the light of dawn
your voice comes
on wings of light
on wings of memory
and your breath
weaves the stillness
into a crown of poetry

~

Listening intently to the music interweaving the waters of their souls.

Lovers Listening
Unknown Artist, Somewhere in France
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Writing

Writing is an upstream hike,
following the river into its birthwomb,
but neither is the longing quelled
nor the birthwomb found,
and so the ache continues,
flourishing in the heart
like silence caught in a sea of fog,
like the billowing kiss of the infinite sky.

Of writing I speak as a Sufi and a lover; writing as the gateway of love.

Free Verse # 413 (the diary of my travels)

My life — letters written to an imaginary lover, a lover who never comes, who is always here.

~

On the poem’s wings I rise to the clarity of her eyes.

~

My poems are the diary of my travels through the regions of her soul — a collection of leaves, flowers, teas, honeys,

~

Nowhere to go to,
no one to find,
this love I want
is in my heart.

~

Dans mon poème
elle s’est venue
chercher son ombre
qui s’est enfuit
dans l’abime des ténèbres

~

The winds of longing
racing in my chest
where the blooming flowers
sigh out your name

~

Your love touches me
and though a dewdrop I feel
the ocean in my heart

~

Her moan rising shapeless
over the sea of dawn,
kissing the sky and soaking
the earth in pebbled dew

~

Starbreath,
the sigh of a candle,
I am travelling inside of you,
into your night,
your silence,
the expanse of that world
spinning behind your eyes.

~

Everywhere I go
I hear you,
a music
older than time
strumming the waves
of my soul.

Free Verse # 412 (the difficult art)

I go on loving you
past the total closure
of the heart,
for you are in me
as a ray of light in the flower
when it is still a seed
buried in the earth.

~

My poems go
where reason cannot follow,
entering that silence
where her breath lives,
dissolving in her light
the longing in my soul.

~

Dissolve…
the candle as it burned
sighed this secret
into my heart

~

Dusk descends…
my heart a pebble
hurled by rivers
coursing amid the stars

~

Love
ground me in the silence
of your heart,
teach me the difficult art
of opening again and again,
the grace of being a rose
in your garden of dawn.

~

No poem will ever capture the beauty of this moment, yet this moment is beauty steeped in poetry.

~

My heart
a cemetery of unheard sighs
and love whispers
lost in the wind

~

I exist in two places at once — in the poem, and in the silence of your heart.

Free Verse # 411 (mon poème et mon cœur)

If I touched you with my heart, would you be the poem I’ve been aching to write? – the poem that exhausts my life in a sea of mystery?

~

He touched her and her heart, weeping, was a violin that finally found its soul.

~

My poem and my heart are coextensive: the woman who touches one touches the other.

~

Mon poème et mon cœur sont coextensives: la femme qui touche l’un touchera l’autre.

~

We are all in the end unfinished stories.

~

Un jour, même après ma mort, un papillon anonyme trouvera la fleur secrète qui brule dans mon corps.

~

آخر الطرقات بين
قلبي وقلبها
وردة حمراء تذوي
وورقة خريف
هائمة في الريح

~

Photographer unknown

Clothed by his poem,
every word etched
with the ink of a fire
that burned for ages
on the altar of his heart.

~

Caressant sa peau
avec mon poème
la fleur entre ses jambes
s’en est ouverte
comme une coquille qui m’offrait
l’infini de la mer

Free Verse # 410 (my life)

My heart at dawn
soundlessly breaking;
in the forest
a swoosh of leaves,
and the song of a bird
that spent the night
searching for its nest.

~

In a blind world
I press my poem
to the wound of the sky

~

All the poetry I wrote
and you did not read
I’ll burn and blow,
fireflies in the night.

~

The sun has set;
of one cloth are weaved
my soul and the sky’s.

~

The sun,
blood red as it sinks;
my heart a coal
of untamed desire.

~

I live alone
at the edge of dawn
and no one
save a poem and a bird
comes to knock on my door.

~

Her and me –
the two wings of a bird gliding
in the silence of dawn.

~

I think of you the way silence spreads through the bosom of the night.

~

In the wave of his longing
she slept,
a leaf folded
in the silence of the sky.

~

My life,
little absences
converging
in the great heart
of the sea.

My life,
a great absence,
a thin ink line
of fading poetry.

~

J’ai beaucoup vie dans ton ombre. Je brille de ta lumière.

~

Trying to forget her whom I never met.

~

The aura of her light
enticing me to touch her
with the ray of poetry

~

Somewhere
in a secret place of her heart
I once loved,
I once lost.