Poem: 5 / Seeing the Scaffold

Seeing the scaffold at the end of the road
or a steamroller coming toward you

or a herd of elephants bearing down
or looking into the maw of a tiger

on your morning stroll

his teeth and back of throat
and his greater existence

about to surround you
and all around you palm trees

sway and water still
rushes to its destination and

birds fly into branches and
continue to sing in fact

the whole universe is now a
polyphonic birdsong some trilling

happily some crooning mournfully
light playing its kaleidoscope patterns

around you accelerating and
brightening in gorgeous flashes

and the music of the spheres has finally
broken through the clouds

into your ears
as your

heart’s about to break
and death take you

and the procession of saints can be
glimpsed over the hill

for you to join at the end
to continue on

past this world’s din
_____________________
5/15/12 (from Down at the Deep End, in progress)

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, Angel of Deathj, Death, elephants, fana fillah, ISLAM/SUFISM, Music of the Spheres, Muslim Poetry, POEMS, POETRY, saints, signs of allah, Sufi Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Poem: 5 / Seeing the Scaffold

  1. omart says:

    Heavy.

    Like

  2. Sarah Aschenbach says:

    Real. Thank you.

    Like

  3. Ah Sarah (with a bow to Michael), good to hear from you. Blessings in droves and doves… to thee and thine.

    Like

  4. Uncooperative bodies sometimes nudge our souls out into the fuller light. Thank you for this beautiful poem. It reminded me. I miss you. We love you.

    Like

  5. Did you manage to go to Konya? Do you know this poem? On the Road to Konya? (writ in a giant Turkish tour bus on our way there…)

    ON THE ROAD TO KONYA

    Sometimes I get tired of all this talk about God
    and I just want to go and sit under a tree

    but then the tree starts talking to me about God
    and we find ourselves in another conversation

    No two people and no two things talk about God
    in quite the same way

    A wheel running down a hill all by itself talks about God
    while its hub remains stationary and its spokes rotate

    An ant has another way of approaching the subject
    that has about it a certain collective resonance

    Inanimate objects on the other hand often comment on their surroundings
    and the pleasant or unpleasant sets of circumstances
    that landed them there

    Stars have the softest voices and you have to listen more attentively
    but their take on the theme is always illuminating
    and sheds light in many unexpected and even faraway places

    A lover often speaks about God in incomplete sentences
    with clouds of various colors and densities
    moving slowly or quickly around their
    faces and most unselfconscious gestures as they speak in
    intimate whispers

    And then I’m brought back again to the sweet syrups of this endless
    talk about God that goes on every instant
    even when no one seems to know what they’re talking about
    or why they began conversing in the first place

    The serpent winks the sunflower opens its concentric mathematical mandala
    flat and desolate wastes yawn and the air shivers

    I stick out my tongue and God’s breath flows all around it
    whether we speak or remain silent as we sail through the
    divine events of the sky and earth’s decisive

    theological arguments with all their perfect proofs and occasional
    long and melancholy refutations
    ___________________________
    9/21/2003 (on the road to Konya)

    Like

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