For Allah guides whom He will to a path that is straight. Holy Qu'ran (2:213)
Was it chance, or meant to be? I passed
so many doors without a second look
within, not dreaming I'd come home at last
where angels stand above the world and cast
their shadows as an angler casts his hook,
to catch by chance or meant-to-be. I passed
beneath, not looking up. I held on fast
to solid earth, ignoring how I shook
within, not dreaming I'd come home at last.
My sailcloth soul, my heart-of-cedar mast
were tossed and torn by tempest and chinook
and saved, by chance or meant-to-be. I passed
to harbor, there to shelter from the blast
and draw pure water from the gentle brook
within, not dreaming I'd come home at last.
Allah guides whom He will. Radiant and vast,
His countenance outshone the sky. I took
my chance. My chance, or meant-to-be? I passed
within, not dreaming. I'd come home at last.
Collection available! Knocking from Inside
Friday, August 22, 2008
How I Met Him
Labels:
poetry,
villanelle
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4 comments:
"My sailcloth soul, my heart-of-cedar mast"
Wow, oh, wow! I love the way you changed the puncutation in the repeated lines!
Linda has mentioned exactly the things that I had meant to comment on - favorably, of course. I think the strict form brings out the true beauity of this poem.
This just so beautiful! Thank you.
b
Yes, I agree with b. You have such a way with words, such skill, and ideas to match.
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