Monday, December 18, 2017

Sheikha A. writes

Song of the Silent Woods

A thousand fireflies flocked 
to rest on the moon like a robe

their sweat black like the fur
of a soil cured

the night smelled of the breath
of a death a mile away

the leaves cried against palms
of a keeling whale

would my stay, having lingered
a millisecond longer,

brought the light of your lotus
to the star-pond closer?

Would my hand have caught
in the mouth of the lark?

The selfish pond reflected 
the stitches of a jade star;

from it a life came born
from scavenges of the past

my face held down in the glow
of silver amassed

but the spirit of a heart never
rested on cold sand

my immortal thirst across raven
mountains spanned -
 Fireflies and Moonlight -- D. Eleinne Basa

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