06172022 - evening

 
My skin is a stretched Bedouin tent
sewn around your sturm and drang  
a billowing cape in storm and wind  
 
In arid desert and open steppe  
searching a garden for what we lost  
 
Inside our walls the stars and moon  
seek the face of Heaven too  
 
Delicate jasmine kisses each breath  
and orchards of Paradise bathe on your lips  
 
Each poem a flower bloom  
spilling fragrance on our grassy plain  
where sultan and gypsy share one name  
 
Where once a glorious Eden sprung  
churned by rivulets of rolling Time  
all that’s missing shall be found  
and broken branches mend again  
 
We stitch our tents one by one  
tailors with a silken line  
lacing wings to weary feet  
nomads with immortal twine  
threading low and high to meet  
cladding earth in cloth Divine