The bird in the cage of my chest flutters excitedly. My mad camel pulls at its tether. A lion looks out through my eyes and sees quarry. The river rises. Along the bank new grasses appear. A dawn wind blows through the rose garden.
Love left, because of one thing I did wrong. Now it returns.
Compassion curves back here, and lightheartedness.
A blind man throws away his cane. A baby begins to eat from the plate. A falcon lifts towards the king’s drum. Now silence unweaves the shroud of words we have woven.
Adam A. Azim 