prayers in najaf

look down
at your friend
your brother
your wife
your daughter
lying there
draped
in a blanket
of blue and pink roses

no breath comes
no laughter
a time
for quiet tears
for hands to be held
open
to the aching
of the heart

you can do these things

grand strings
of mundane
thoughts
arrive
unheralded
unspeckled
by schemes
and dreams

unladen your beginnings
don’t write them
allow the sound
of an unplanned act
untracked
by fear or fact
be held
beneath shirts
and socks
and a basket
open and waiting

unclothe your thoughts
not even a parent’s eye
follow
the footfalls of a naked idea
run giggling
come back
like a fresh wind
tomorrow

like a note torn
in a pocket
sparks fly
something is born
edgy and alive
and you go
without leading
or being led
or even knowing
it’s unsaid

the world they see

there is a time
for giving
neither criticism
nor praise
for withdrawing oneself
from the learning
and allowing instead
the student to reconcile
the world they feel with
the world they see

blue pearl

even if
the world turns
on its promise
to be free like
a blue pearl
waiting

even if
the land grinds
against itself
gnashing generations
into deformed figures
where sweeping contours
once lay catching rays
from a doting sun

even if
gnarled trees growl
and parched gullies
twist and break
into vague remnants
of a sustainable past

even if
the oceans surge
and all is submerged
into a cold blackness
i will be there
on the seabed
waiting