by Dunya Dianne McPherson
When the world,
wind-whipped and breeze-cut,
its wail and shimmer hold me still.
My tremulous breath knows its evanescence.
My breath knows itself,
My breath no longer needs me and my plans
for the next breath.
My breath no longer waits for me
and those other breaths
that have slid by my heart
full of a certain day.
My heart tips forward
cupping my dark innerness,
deep in a cavern, free and soft as a mollusk
in a Forever way, without direction.
Inside the rock.
Before the ocean.
The world was once shrouded.
Melt like salt in rain.
Down and in.
I woke a little.
Birdsong pierced holes in the gray veil.
I closed my eyes, returning to darkness.
I woke again in pale fog.
Little mouths on the back of my spine
opened and closed.
My toes stirred the warmth beneath covers,
my breathing still heavy with sleep.
I closed my eyes, waiting.
A wave surged up through my thighs, my belly, my chest,
opening me to the day,
to air ready to cradle me, enter me.
I tossed back the covers so it could touch me.
So it could draw me forth.
I am delighted that you are with me and appreciate your sharing these writings friends. Thank you!
My work and writing are sponsored by Dervish Society of America, a nonprofit organization helping people realize their human and spiritual potential by honoring their body and its movement ways using evolutionary Sufi Dancemeditation practices. Thank you for your gift. It’s tax-deductible! Contribute Now
Thank you so much for these Sufi resonant poems…..and the photos that go with them. They all took me deep into the Sufi experience. Some of my favorite lines and images are “wind-whipped and breeze-cut” and how “the breath no longer needs me and my plans.” I love the poem about waking up with birdsong piercing the veil….waking us into consciousness on so many levels. The line for me that was so exacting and vivid was “Little mouths on the back of my spine opened and closed.” Bravo!
Charlotte, thank you. I think ‘Sufi resonant poems’ is the perfect description. Thank you for that! Writing poetry is a part of the tradition of course and not just for those who are poets but as a way of finding words that indicate the depths of experience or ‘resonate’ with what barely fits into words or thought. That said, I used to write poetry when in retreat that was lovely but too influenced by reading Rumi and Hafiz. Now I feel more myself. The experiences are Sufi and I am me/Sufi. Photos: those by Shay Kuntz and Iscah Paquin are… Read more »