Everything all at once takes a pause
then resumes again

We can’t see or feel it most times
a crack the size of the cosmos

sealed up in an illusion of continuous flow
a pause between one breath and the next

that includes every star no matter
how far away and every sun long

beyond eye- ear- or any-shot
a gulp that isn’t quite a

gulp or a blink that doesn’t mean a
moment exactly of darkness

so infinitesimal a break no worm
or wombat feels anything at all

But what could heave itself
between one living existence and the next is so

monumentally gigantic so beyond any
conception of infinitude

And there and on both and all sides
is Allah and there He on all sides also isn’t

O sweet Mercy O sweet rain of
elements sweet God of it all

That we exist at all O God
in this rush!

_________________
3/14/08 (from The Fire Eater’s Lunchbreak, now published)

How can we add one more word to it
one more syllable one more

breath to what is already at its
peak of perfection its absolute facets of

the entire crystal reflecting everything
perfectly with no extra membrane

even one smudge of murkiness or
shadow even one throat-clearing

pause of doubt it’s so airtight and so
completely expressed the trillions of

gazillions of perfect bees aswarm or
inspecting the insides of flowers

and the quadrazillions of flowers themselves on
their nocturnal hillsides also

holding their breath so perfectly
there in their thereness each

petal-tip perfect
each movement on earth the

size of Gibraltar in a seismic seizure
of even one nano-micro-meter of

shift ever so slightly also affecting
nothing so much as the totally endearing

nothingness that is
within which in silence we

call out to Allah lips unable to actually
add one more word to it in its

monumental simplicity that inadequate
word of which is also actually

too much it’s all simply
Allah

____________________

1/11/2008 (from The Fire Eater’s Lunchbreak, in preparation)

Apothecary jars on shelves of burnished silver
beakers filled with smoke gurgling in the dark

Something must be brewing from these nefarious ingredients
shamans in the depths of shadowy forests might use

Bits of waxed thread amber in its gum form
shedding lovely golden glows on the proceedings

Cotton dipped in liquid light then dabbed on clean surfaces
(I’m not even sure what these various things are for)

Maybe buried deep in Bavaria mountain fastnesses
these laboratories exploding sometimes with transformations

Their innocent practitioners having to stand back suddenly
while a whole new creation forms before their eyes

Not a mote or motion goes by without God’s knowledge
every shred of evidence left behind or in eternity

Each new combination of antiquated materials
that opens its infant eyes on this rapidly passing world

Suddenly it’s quiet in the alchemist’s environment
everything assumes a uniform pewter sheen

Rumblings are heard from distant deep volcanoes
even straight pins on the floor begin to vibrate

The sky leans lower and the earth strains up to meet it
there’s suddenly an unearthly but inclusive coming together

Unseen world and seen world embrace in broad daylight
an audible whisper of intelligible phrases is clearly heard

This poem tumbles into being with all its shortcomings
the way a whirling dervish solemnly steps onto the floor

and takes its joy and gnosis by simply circulating
where before there’d been nothing but the usual equilibrium

It all takes place in silence
and returns there when it’s done

New windows are opened
where before there’d been none
_________________
12/28/2007 (from The Fire Eater’s Lunchbreak, in preparation)