The news has come, but you must not have heard. Jealousy has changed to love. Do you have any love left?
The moon has opened its face and its wings made of light. Borrow eyes to see this, if yours cannot.
Night and day an arrow comes toward you
from a hidden bow.
If you have no shield and nowhere to hide
from the death that is always coming closer, you may as well yield.
The copper of your being
has already transmuted to gold by Moses’ alchemy, and yet you fumble in a money bag for coins.
You have within you an Egypt, miles of riverside canebrake, the source of all sweetness, yet you worry whether candy will come
from a store outside yourself.
External form, you reach for shapes, yet you are the Joseph.
Close your eyes and gaze in the mirror
at the flame that lit your senses.
Your body is a camel
going swift and straight to the Kaaba.
You think you are idling around town on a donkey, or heading off the opposite way, but you are not.
This caravan is a triumph
being drawn directly into God’s reality.
Adam A. Azim 