Category Archives: Poems Beyond Their Words

contains poetry inclined toward mysticism, gnosticism, Irfan, Tasawwuf, Sufism

Life as we [don’t] know it

Oh, Beloved, since finding me, you have ruined my life and enlivened my death. What more can one offer in gratitude and remembrance. This duality confounds me. You are not my opposite, Nor I yours. The closest I can come … Continue reading

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It is

It is our silence He hears.It is our thirst that drinks.The heart pumps harder, when we bleed.It is the lightness of absence that moves the tides of company.It is the vast emptinessin which the enormity of the beloveddiscloses. tis nothing … Continue reading

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Whispering

I have discovered that God whispers  among those who proudly proclaim love. The latter takes us for loves fool  but I take the whisperer  as a lover.  Just whisper. tis nothing if not heardEmailTwitterFacebook0PrintGoogle

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Die Beautifullly

Were a rose to know the gift of its own fragrance,  it would surely die… fulfilled.  Sweet attar of its sigh lulls open the red petals of my own empty heart who could behold such hollowness without imaging all it … Continue reading

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An Empty Gift

  A gift is fragrance out of breath fled from the abode of the urn seeking respite of a wayfaring vessel within whom, it makes its return. Be not daunted, open the cover, Draw deeply from spirits fathomless well Oh, … Continue reading

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In side and beside

The map to your heart, is in your heart. So where are you going? Be still. The Light in mine Of which you seek Illuminates Yours. Seek the One who points your soul toward love’s direction. He is pointing at … Continue reading

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Why it rains

My love expels from the aquifer of my being,in synchrony with a mountain top weathering. Rock erodes into dust, coloring the sky red and rust. Water gathers about the grainupon everything it rains. Earth quenched by wineArouses the timeless out … Continue reading

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Fashioner of Wind

Layla is the faint attar at dawn quiet, sinuously flowing slowly in the morning She stirs the fashioner of winds Majnun is the feather Whenever his beloved gets too close, upon her wings, he flies off and away again. tis nothing if not heardEmailTwitterFacebook0PrintGoogle

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The Pain of the Thorn

the pain of the thorn is where the rose gets it color from where fragrance manifests its message tis nothing if not heardEmailTwitterFacebook0PrintGoogle

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Halcyon

We occupy different parts of the earth but we share the same sky look up everything is up there boundless cloud pastures of the imagination roam in halcyon tis nothing if not heardEmailTwitterFacebook0PrintGoogle

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