
Two Poems
The Strangest of the Pilgrims are Companions
The silkworm warms the dragon’s tail scaled golden.
A mirror wears the silkworm’s veil, invisible tonight.
The worm-wrapped thread exhales upon the golden.
The bearded dragon’s silken sail, invisible tonight.
Reflected in a mirror, silkworm changes
Faith before it falters, fails, invisible tonight.
The pious dragon serpentine sees through a looking glass.
The mirror reads the dragon’s tale, invisible tonight.
The dragon’s eyes cross past the mirrored surface,
Alliance with the glass prevails, invisible tonight.
The veil’s the thing that knots life to illusion.
See nothing as it truly is; the truth is frail, invisible tonight.
We hide in script revealed in distant centuries.
Mirror, dragon, worm and I slip off the trail, invisible tonight.
Salaat Al-Maghrib
Handle’s not the axe
Knob is not the door
Iris in a garden
Carpet on the floor
Wood split stacked and dry
Hinges swing the door
Winter in the land
Forehead to the floor
Fire warms the heart
Walk into a room
Pupil of the eye
Compass pointing true
Steel the sharpened blade
Mindful of misuse
Iris of the eye
Colour of the fuse
Light the wick tonight
Oil lamp’s fragrant cues
Shadow in the garden
Fallow winter view
Handle’s not the hand
Hand is not the door
Iris not the eye
Carpet on the floor