I speak in magical metaphor, and sense
comes seeking me
I fix my eye on Spirit, and the words
flow naturally.
I clothe myself in rags, and all riches
envy me
I cry with those in pain, and wonders
visit me
should I take to the broader way
and douse the flames that light me up
should I lull the storms inside
and take to drinking from an empty cup
though blackness blot the lifelong sun
I’ll sing of sun through the night
though hope seem dead if sparks are there
I’ll wish your heart into bright light
I speak and breathe of flowers, and lions
listen to me
I lead the forests to water, and rivers
follow me
I fix my heart on giving and what is mine
comes back to me
I turn my Soul to living and the sublime
unfolds in me
email: comments AT PenWideAwake DOT com
all poems copyright ali ghaznavi
Ali,
I ran across your poems, enjoyed this very much, especially
“my father spoke to me”.
I recently made a trip to Lahore where my mother lives,
got a chance to spend a lot of quality time with her and
am grateful to say that I was able to appreciate the cruz of
our relationship which is the unconditional love thats there..
regards,
saqib
Going through this makes me forget myself .But who am i enters me
This is a fine poem. Your use of words, Ali, has a real feel to it and there is plenty of meaning. The third verse reminded me of Yeats – “The intellect of man is forced to choose/ Perfection of the life or of the work/ And if it take the latter, must refuse/ A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark” – a half-truth, mind you.