Heavy Essence

I am not the first whose shirt is filled with the musk of pride

while his pocket is riddled with holes.

The aspirations of men are grand.

They continue to expand as time shrinks.

—Al-Sharīf al-Radī

1.

A spirit concealed within my shirt

directs me.

Whenever it urges me on, I pause

and when it restrains me, I charge.

But if I were to see my path

or my stumbling

it would envelope me, swelling,

welcoming as an embrace.

It is my light and my labyrinth,

my awareness and enticement,

safety and fear,

but it always receives me like a stronghold.

I exult in the height and the view.

It has always been my friend,

hidden within my array.

2.

A spirit lingers beneath my shirt,

buried like a secret.

It teaches me how to survive

when time is ruled

by the whims of humans.

It teaches me how to see

when every direction is clouded by them.

It teaches me to despair in all things,

to love all things,

and leaves me lost between the two.

I wander,

and it blossoms in the darkness of my soul.

3.

There is a spirit within my shirt,

hidden,

because space is so small

and some hopes go on forever.

(11/10/1993)