Shouting God by Tiel Aisha Ansari
The hills above The Dalles are striped with snow and last year’s stubble. Hawks hunt along the rows. The hills were shouting G…
Streaks of color in the sky —
can it be the blood of angels?
The sky itself —
can it be the breath of God?
In the underbrush a noise —
a something’s there
cleaning house?
The four or five or more
dimensions —
a ghost’s body
giving birth to life?
We travel to the cardinal points —
then are we anywhere
but at our starting point?
Questions come
and are themselves the answers —
a Cyclops or unicorn
as easily as an ant?
Staring into the air
are we gazing at
God’s aquarium?
Loving each other to the bone —
are we loving any
other than God?
You’re seventy-two Abdal-Hayy
yet you’re still a child —
Still at sea
any closer to the shore?
Or is the sea the answer?
Love comes in a puddle
as well as a pillow —
Do you breathe it in
and exhale its
compassionate zone?
12/11/12 (from Next Life)
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