I Enter the Chapel of my Forehead
1 I enter the chapel of my forehead in prostration where it is cool and dark Forehead against smooth boards eyes closed hands …
The Prophet Muhammad’s arrived again
with an entourage of saints
Birds are flying in such a way
the sky is streaked with gold
He settles down to a cool murmur
and everywhere rivers flow
None of our words are anything
but his messages of silver
Their light is like a thousand universes
with a thousand burning suns
Once seen he can’t be forgotten
Once heard he can’t be ignored
Beauty denied is
justice thrown down a well
Justice denied is
beauty left bleeding on the road
He’s left us with ourselves at last
in a quandary of gorgeous song
11/28/2007 (from The Fire Eater’s Lunchbreak)
Categories: Poems, The Prophet Muhammad (salallahu alayhi wa sallam)