A Little Blue Monk

A little blue monk in a purple
cassock served us sarsaparilla

He looked through eyes that had been
through a thousand years of blinking

I think to him we resembled chrysanthemums
in colored vases

He wept as he told us his joys
and how the light irradiated his little

cell at night and how soft the
voices and deep the import

A faqir came along in a yellow djallaba
and brought tame giraffes to ride

“These are swifter than most and one
bound takes us to the far horizon

to the rising or setting sun — whichever
you wish”

We rode all day and the sun rose
successively for love was in the

air and nothing could stop us from

diving right into it and through its
heartfelt syrups

A little Buddha appeared and held his
hand above his head to indicate we’d

arrived at the right location

for his feet knew each terrain as perfect
and he knew for us what was

perfect for our feet as well as we
looked out over the sheerest

canyons for miles and miles we’d
ever seen

and from the depths of their crevasses rose
colored streamers and

rays of golden light

and the voices here assured us we’d
arrived at the appropriate place

When we looked around there was
no one there but we were

not alone

and a Face of Light floated in the
air in front of us

to show us our souls

6/3/12 (from Down at the Deep End)

Categories: Poems, Saints / Awliyya