Find the Prophet
A Poem
In the jumbled seas where your soul and skin have come to rest
find what remains of you, amongst the hardened knots of water
To the light, when you hold your scribbled spirit — lose those inscriptions
Allow white waters falling from your pores, to wash off your stiff prints
Hold your child, comb her hair, but untie yourself from her thoughts
Be sky that watches thirst, yet holds rains, for its child for her to find water
Walk into brilliant black fields of death, from the darkening greens of life
See how they shall remain the same earth, split by imaginary frontiers
Float to life from dead, with the light breeze, you have been carrying within
In crossing moments, watch the cycle of end-and-origin spin over and over
Children residing in your arms will multiply, they will grow flanks in time
Strip them naked and write them on a paper, then read for the world aloud
Thinking of Kahlil Gibran while writing this one.
