a southern dream of summer

a southern dream of summer

open your windows

let the raindrops

lull you to sleep

inhale the scent

of far off waters

coming to seek a wet sojourn

tropical storms

traipsing through your town

towering trees left behind

revealing a kaleidoscope of verdant hues

hot, moist air clinging to you

like an enveloped cloak

refusing the entrance of a cool breeze

to bring an end to its infernal onslaught

stormy sand dunes

burning

the soles of our penitent pilgrim flesh

as we make our seasonal pilgrimage

to view the endless crashing of waves

a reminder

that this dream of a summer

will all too soon wane

into autumnโ€™s glorious

tumble of leaves

child, i must howl

Child, I must howl at dawn
Its blinding rays bursting unbidden
Through the tenebrous clouds
Why has another day broken
While I am
Alone
Wishing to wallow
In nights comforting cover
Howl away I will child
Whilst the stubborn sun continues
Rising
And the timed earth keeps to its twirls and twists
Churning our lives
Like some noisy blender
Until we can’t see ourselves
Can’t see our humanity
When will it stop O Lord
I just want peace
Stillness
Quiet
Or is that the antithesis
Of this life?
Change, change always change
That’s the only constant
I’m told
What if we could hit pause
And rewind
Would we change our past
To change our future ?
Or do we need our mistakes, tumbles and falls to grow and learn?
Can’t we be born perfect ya rabb?
Or is Adam and Eve’s mistake to haunt their children forever?
I throw my thick curtains over the brilliant light
Burrowing in my covers
Silence and darkness again
Except for my steady breath and pulse
Beat, beat, beat away brave heart
Inspire, expire and repeat
laconic lungs of mine
Maintain the illusion of equilibrium
But fret not child,
inside still I howl

Happy Ramadan everyone. May we all not die this month, survive our fasts, strive to amp up that faith, get closer to God, be kinder and more empathetic to ourselves and others, be nicer to the planet, give more to the needy (instead of giving to our not-so-needy bellies) and take moments to reflect on the fleeting and ephemeral nature of this life and the eternal permanence of the next life. And now I will defer to the awesomeness of Rumi’s Ramadan poem. He always says it best -

O moon-faced Beloved,
the month of Ramadan has arrived
Cover the table
and open the path of praise.

O fickle busybody,
itโ€™s time to change your ways.
Can you see the one whoโ€™s selling the halvah
how long will it be the halvah you desire?

Just a glimpse of the halvah-maker
has made you so sweet even honey says,
โ€œIโ€™ll put myself beneath your feet, like soil;
Iโ€™ll worship at your shrine.โ€

Your chick frets within the egg
with all your eating and choking.
Break out of your shell that your wings may grow.
Let yourself fly.

The lips of the Master are parched
from calling the Beloved.
The sound of your call resounds
through the horn of your empty belly.

Let nothing be inside of you.
Be empty: give your lips to the lips of the reed.
When like a reed you fill with His breath,
then youโ€™ll taste sweetness.

Sweetness is hidden in the Breath
that fills the reed.
Be like Mary โ€“ by that sweet breath
a child grew within her.

- Rumi