Saturday, December 4, 2010

Waking up Mikhail, the Saints and the Condors of God

18. I am awake, why are you still asleep?
I am awake,
Why are you still asleep?
I am holding you in my arms,
But I see you are still dreaming.

Will you not open your eyes?
And see who is beside you?
It is I, your Beloved.
The one who loves you,
With a love constant and certain
With hope passionate,
Set above the highest peak
Of mortal conjecture.

Oh, beautiful one,
There are condors here,
Falcons and mighty eagles of God,
Circling my anticipation
For you,
And their cries break
The sullen silence
Of high solitude, crying out,
“Oh, Lord, there is None
But you who can love
The way you do!”

If you could see and hear them,
You would not despair!

Oh, sleeping child,
I see tears well beneath your eyelids,
What awful torment are you suffering?
Let me send Artiya’il into your dream
To wipe that tears away,
Let me send my Friends, many and true,
To give solace to you.

Oh, sleeping child, listen to what they have to say!
For they will tell you of me.
And that you are always in my embrace,
And that I shall not let you fall,
Nor sleep too long.

Oh, sleeping child,
My Friends will attend to you
Though their gaze is set forever to the Moon,
My Moon that I created
Before the first moan of life
Ever fell from the lips
Of a man or an angel,
Before the first flicker
Of my many stars,
Before the first dream
Ever lapped the shore
Of your distant but compelling sleep.

I was writing this prose in my head as I gazed at my son asleep beside me, when suddenly, he openned his eyes and said, "Hey, Papa. I am not asleep."

Do you not feel the same, cradling your young child in your arms?

And if you feel the same way I do, then,
how can we not be brothers and sisters?

Have a wonderful Saturday, my friends.

Pax Taufiqa.

Footnote - Poem from chapter 31, 'Eggshells & Cinders', circa early 2008.

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