Poem #146

The morning breeze brings a scent of the Friend's tress at dawn

bringing our distracted heart to work, drawn.

I uprooted that cypress form from my eye's garden view

for every rose blossoming from its grief brought trouble anew.

I saw the moon's glow from her palace roof so bright

hiding its face in the wall from that sun's shaming light.

I freed my bleeding heart fearing her love's plunder

but blood poured out, bringing the path to that wonder.

By the minstrel and Saki's word, I went out, time and again

for from that heavy path, news comes hard to men.

The Beloved's bounty was all grace and kindness sweet

whether She ordered beads or a belt for the street.

God forgive her eyebrow's curve, though it made me weak

with a glance, it brought a message to the sick and meek.

I wondered at Hafez last night with cup and wine

but I stopped him not, for he brought it Sufi-fine.