Tuesday, September 9, 2014


Unexpected always,
Like wild strawberries
Or lupine in dunes
Appear and hold earth together,
You walk with an open book
Beyond the brim of my hat.
I look.
"It's only a mystery," you say.
Yes, it is certainly that:
You on the path to
Rahima, bright day;
Me, trimming escallonia;
Detectives on separate ways
In an old universe
That still glistens.
You speak.
I listen.
"This, I am more.
Something else that is more."
Hair full of fairylamps,
Downward flutter of fingertips,
A gesture stirring stellar dust,
And I believe you,
I must.


  1. Absolutely beautiful ... truly ... wow ...

    If I may: I'm reminded of Donald Hall and how he wrote of Jane Kenyon, his wife ... with a strength-in-the-gentle kind of love ...

  2. The flowers are beautiful. I am puzzled as to what I can understand from the painting. I see a face at the end of the brick red walkway or is it just an entrance or a door so to speak? If it is a face, is it that of Rahima? The word Rahim is an adjective that means some one who is kind. and is generally in reference to God himself.

    1. Thanks Munir --the gate in the painting is just a gate. Poem was written from another garden about a kind friend who eventually incorporated Rahima into her name.

  3. I see that face too...it was the first thing I saw when I looked at the picture!
    And your words are incredibly beautiful...this is the stuff of dreams, the very best ones...so filled with mystery, with heart-felt longing...oh WOW...:)


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