Haiku # 670

منسيٌ
مرَةً في السنة تتذكرني
رياح الخريف

~

مع اقتراب الموت
لم أعد أرى
الا الضوء في وجهها

~

As death approached
I could only see
the light in her face

~

الموت والحب الضائع
من هذع الحياة لم أعرف
الا مرّ طعمها

~

…إن الله شاعر
عرفته وأنا اقرأ ما كتب
في بحر عينيها

~

My mother’s cancer…
every day a new flower
blooms in her body

Free Verse # 433 (this moment is but a dream, vanishing)

In my love for you
the profanity of my spirit
once more
touched the hem
of God’s soul

~

This moment
is but a dream,
vanishing;
in the mirror
of its smoke
I behold your face,
ever dancing in the wind,
ever warm with grace.

~

Smoke and mirrors,
in this world
I only care to polish
the image of your face.

~

You wander through me
unchanged for eternities
like the ray of light
that shined from God’s heart
on the dawn
of the very first day

~

The music of your voice
comes back at dawn;
like a dewdrop on the leaf
I sit down and listen.

~

Having her here
sleeping next to me,
in the rhythm of her breath
a window opening
onto an endless sea.

~

Beloved, I only have eyes to see you through the window of my heart.

~

My heart burns for you
with the passion of petals
in a tight bud, unfurling,
with the desire of a seed
in the dark soil
feeling all around it
the heat of spring.

~

I am thinking of your voice
and the way it drifts at dawn,
a ray of warm sunlight
through the dewy cover of fog.

I am thinking of your breath
and the way it fills the sky,
starlight from distant galaxies
like dancing snowflakes falling down.

~

Looking through
the dictionary of the winds
for words to describe her,
I discovered the scent
of the jasmine flower
under the summer moon,
little fires of starlight
wandering the tilting sky
early before the dawn,
the words poets uttered
from a wounded heart,
the heated breaths
exchanged between
the merging lips lovers,
the ineffable presence of things
as they enter
the silence of God.

Letter, February 17, 2018

One moment with you, however fleeting, is preferable to an achievement that would immortalize my name. The dust of your love is a better reward than the world and its riches, which men so adore. Lover, my longing for you is the only constant in an ever changing world, and if I have to call you by one word it would be this: Openness. You are the openness of my heart, and a world flung open in the arms of God.

Letter, January 28, 2018

Poetry has delivered me into the intuition of her light – She is God’s divine light shining through me. I feel her and I feel into the heart of being. And the words that then arise are like the foam rising from that experience, her in me, me taken into her. That is how it feels in my heart. And so poetry whispers – light is what we are. Words are like veils lifting, leaving us in the embrace of the naked experience underneath. The more we open to the experience, the light, the more our words change and deepen. I exist as this act of deepening into this light. This, for me, is poetry. And the light is her; the radiance of the divine.

Free Verse # 417 (the focal point of her heart)

I am searching for you
like a jasmine flower looks
for her lost fragrance
in the nooks of the evening sky

~

To live every day
as though it were a poem
inked with the fire
of your love

~

I wandered too deep
into the breath of God;
now I am a flower
wafting on the wind,
in the dewdrop I am
the face of the sky.

~

Completely alone,
invisible to the world’s eye,
born and reborn,
born into full color
from within the eye of love.

~

Her light is the veil
that hides her
in the act of revelation;
so I am condemned
to chase her
in the luminosity of things
ever longing for her core.

~

She smiled once
and it did not matter
if darkness was
the ultimate reality;
she smiled once
and darkness was the mesh
carrying her light
to the end of space and time.

~

Long after her form
vanishes from my mind
her light will linger
in my heart

~

Skin on skin,
the soft warmth of her body
pressing against mine,
engulfing me
in the torrent of her fragrance,
bending time and space
in the focal point of her heart.

~

She is not a body
but a river drowning me
and tugging me down
and deeper down
into the ocean of eternity.

She is the fragrance of the sky.

The Offering

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I knew what it meant
the apple she offered me,
and still I bit;
I bit, looking her in the eyes,
and I will bite, again and again.
I bit and the shared sin laced us,
in the infinite well of knowing bound us,
one flesh, one soul, one longing,
together, in time’s eternal grasp.

And then came the wings of God
blanketing us with a laughter so white,
with a warmth so deep
that all awareness from our minds was shed
and what remained was a single heart
in His Heart, throbbing.