Jami’s Last Words


10

What is poetry? The heart standing
Still, in the promised land

The song of the bird
Of the spirit-mind

The simplicity of the world of
Eternity, where light echoes
From word to golden word
And we are not won yet?

Our body forgets beauty?
Our love grows faint yet?
What is poetry? The soul mirroring
The love of more innocent hearts

The youth of the Divine rose garden
That outlasts all suffering, separation
It draws its faith and power
From a unity with the sacred

What is poetry? It’s the voice
Of god speaking from our heart
In feeling-words, shadows of

Left-over tears from the hardships
Every being must live through.

Solution to a Mystical Book of Epigrams


1

The circle of our coming and our going
Melts here in infinite knowing
Such that has no beginning
Or shall maybe ever have an end

For no one can ever in this world explain
The love that bears the pain
Through centuries of the Keeper
Who arranges the body of this universe

That nothing is truly good or evil
It just is what it is and evolves
Finally to decay and start again
I leave a drunkard of time and place

And holy tears stream my eyes
Not for my little portion of profit or children
Not for experience or her legacy of trials
But because I know everyone stands

In a limited place, without freedom
Only occasional moments of outbreaks
That might last but a few seconds
Of eternity, and so my days are spent

Circling and tracing the way back
To the source, as if in rehab from unity
I must accept this divided world
As a lonely place or as a solitude yearning

For another kind of bliss, I am friendless
Among so many people, so many routines
That barley have time to say or thought at all
If the one I love is God, do I need any friend?