The Sound of Earth’s Rotation
There’s the sound of the earth’s rotation as it swings past space friction a kind of squeak audible in peoples’ speech pattern…
Taste the nothing that isn’t
and the nothingness that is
How many giraffes could gallop through those
words with their incredible vertical lope?
The nothing that isn’t sounds like a
glove that if you pull it on your whole
body disappears to
pop up elsewhere
looking back at you through an
enormous window
The closer we get the
quieter it gets around us
I think whales understand this
moving through the deeps
We have these mouths and
digestive tracts through which the
world in all its dazzle passes
though we bite empty air
The joy of breaking the fast is
the meeting with our Lord
my Lord and your Lord
in an open plain with a
warm wind
as we pull on that glove and
disappear
Great yellow flowers bloom in the
trees and a golden road
undulates toward the X
where our destiny is fulfilled
biting empty air
turned inside-out around us
A catch of stars on the
roof of the house
a fiery glow
in the heart
8/7/11 7 Ramadan (from Ramadan is Burnished Sunlight)
Categories: Poems, Ramadan / 'Eid, Fasting