Poem: Compassionate Zone


Streaks of color in the sky —
can it be the blood of angels?

The sky itself —
can it be the breath of God?

In the underbrush a noise —
a something’s there

cleaning house?

The four or five or more
dimensions —

a ghost’s body
giving birth to life?

We travel to the cardinal points —
then are we anywhere

but at our starting point?

Questions come
and are themselves the answers —

a Cyclops or unicorn
as easily as an ant?

Staring into the air
are we gazing at

God’s aquarium?
Loving each other to the bone —

are we loving any
other than God?

You’re seventy-two Abdal-Hayy
yet you’re still a child —

Still at sea
any closer to the shore?

Or is the sea the answer?

Love comes in a puddle
as well as a pillow —

Do you breathe it in
and exhale its

compassionate zone?


12/11/12 (from Next Life, in progress, insha’Allah)

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, amazement, gratitude, ISLAM/SUFISM, Light, Love, Love of God, POEMS, POETRY, signs of allah, Sufi Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Poem: Compassionate Zone

  1. j3w3lw33d says:

    Great poem, who is the artist? (Referring to the picture up top)


  2. Thank you for your comment. The picture “up top” and the one that accompanies the poem posted before this one are from a series I managed to do during my cancer treatment this past summer. India Ink pens and colored brush-pens and pencils.


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