Ramadan Sonnet: Love

grapes.gif

LOVE

Love is a nectar pressed from a
silvery grape
plucked from the Unseen
just hanging ever so slightly
over the Garden wall into

this world. The vine has
many delicious souls incorporated into its
maze. The arbor is the place for
bells. Each touch of wisdom’s
wind matures the grapes, and their
fermentation is love.

We cannot talk about love in the street-digger’s ditch.
We can’t talk about it
hip-deep in mud, with the
stink of the
world on our clothes.
Then it is only the loud
laughter of
quick relief, not the

arduous journey.

We have to talk about love in the
place where the
pure drunks congregate who know the
bell-clear Name of the
Beloved, and are
not afraid. It is a
place of proclamations, and
lack of all restraint. It is a
place where the next world’s boughs hang
close to the earth within
easy reach.

Slender herons fly across the silhouette of love’s foliage
at angles in a white sky.
Love is a scent that has
the gaunt-eyed standing at
newly opened doors
begging for
audience.
Love weaves hair into Renaissance knots
with tiny neon flowers
only the wisest bees
discover to sip its nectar.
Love is a terrible wave only the
most intrepid navigator
dares enter. Let us not

talk about love. It
cannot be mentioned in the
marketplace. In the
boardrooms of America
love has gone astray, and the
object misplaced.
Love is a harsh master
jealous of duplicity. Love is a

lone eagle proud on a harsh rock.

Love is a faint glow in the distance on the
high seas, but
enough for the
lone survivor. It is the

pocket of calm between two
rough sheets of sandstorm.

It is the
sandstorm itself.

It is a taste that will test the taster
who gives up all doubts and takes a
leap that leaves a chasm
forever between what he
once was and what he has
now become. Time turns the
gulf into a canyon so wide
there is
no turning back. Love is a

mysterious guide on a mist-filled mountain path
that winds around severe peaks, and
passes caves cut into the
liquid rock-crystal of dream. But it

goes past them.

There is no animal capable, in all its
animal innocence, of
embodying the
full dimension of love. Love is not for
the lower beasts, even though their
loyalty partakes of a
portion of its sea.

No space of creation is without it. Even in the
darkest depths of the sea.

It drives us on.

It takes hold.

It brings some into the
land of a foolishness so
wise only
few understand its
language. Birds
understand it. They stitch the

daylight skies with its
syllables.

The brilliant
light of silence
knows it.

The hopeless lover with

moist eyes

knows it.

23 Ramadan (morning)

About danielabdalhayymoore

Poet, artist, collagist, publisher, hoping to save a little bit of the world through ecstatic utterance... ordered in balanced lines and unpremeditated images...
This entry was posted in ABDAL-HAYY'S POETRY. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Ramadan Sonnet: Love

  1. Baraka says:

    Salaam dear Daniel –

    Another gorgeous poem! I especially love these images:

    “a
    silvery grape
    plucked from the Unseen
    just hanging ever so slightly
    over the Garden wall into

    this world.”

    “Love weaves hair into Renaissance knots
    with tiny neon flowers
    only the wisest bees
    discover to sip its nectar.”

    “Birds
    understand it. They stitch the

    daylight skies with its
    syllables.”

    Bless you for sharing all this beauty with us!

    Warmly,
    Baraka

    Like

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  4. Zahrah Awaleh says:

    As-salamu alaykum brother Abdal Hayy,

    Your poem makes love the intangible, the elusive into images and encounters that we can imagine and relate to somehow. Thank you so much for the masterly way that you expressed it for us all; you’ve given us all so much to contemplate.

    Like

  5. abuzuhri says:

    The brilliant
    light of silence
    know it…
    that ember
    of iman burning
    inside that stranger
    countless years ago

    The hopeless
    lover with moist eyes
    know it…
    as the soft voices
    declared your oneness
    now the whole
    world belong to you
    By the brightness of dhuha
    and the stillness of the night !

    We beseech wisdom
    from your presence
    and gather us among
    the righteous company
    ghufranaka
    wa ilaikal masir
    unto you we are
    journeying back !

    Like

  6. If thou must love me, let it be for nought
    Except for love’s sake only. Do not say
    ‘I love her for her smile – her look – her way
    Of speaking gently, – for a trick of thought
    That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
    A sense of pleasant ease on such a day’-
    For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
    Be changed, or change for thee, – and love, so wrought,
    May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
    Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,-
    A creature might forget to weep, who bore
    Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
    But love me for love’s sake, that evermore
    Thou mayst love on, through love’s eternity.

    Like

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