April 7th


It matters not how you weave it
compose, where you’ll meet it
but write her biography..

how she scraped her knee
when she learned to wound herself
expectations broke her heart

tears of joy flowed down her cheeks
the time she mastered how to tease
the night ecstasy woke her up

The way sweetness fall upon your page
how grace embrace your every verse
endless devotion, humble prostration

The way you touch your beloved
glorify in his presence
yet, tormented in his absence

“Like that, like that!”

Rumi, write my biography
in an avenue, only you-
could ever explore…


3 thoughts on “April 7th

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