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For Mohammed March 12, 2008

Posted by Tim in Poetry.

His eyes are full of respect
For the divine lines drawn inside him
Through some arab sand
At the far edge of history.
His eyes are full of holy things
That cast shadows on his childhood
Strange shapes on a stranger
In a land where his soul belongs.

His hands are full of youth
In cuffs of suspicion and ignorance
And the first sin: willing to be deceived.
His hands trace the crosses in bricks
Like the crosses in his fist
That spat at pity
And chose truth and we over free satisfaction

His feet are bared and burning
For a sacred place
Full of hope and chances
And a new tongue: horizons.
His feet, scorched by many deserts’
Suns which beat him
The sojourner boy
Who dared to break through the mountains.

And through the mountains a city came
On a hill like a white elephant
And its lights were piercing and mighty
And could not be hid.
His eyes, full of light
His hands, full of crosses
His feet, full of hope
The city, full of horizons.

They did not bring him through the gates.
They took him through the space that does not exist
To where the city’s heart was excised:
The afflicted isle.

The afflicted isle
That beats in rhythm to the sound of fear
All locks, no keys
All rocks, no sand.
His eyes were opened inside their sacred place
And his feet, bared, lost hope at the city’s
Sons who beat him
But his hands were not willing to be deceived.

So he wrote, and he writes
Humanity’s song: The First and The Only Poem of Life
Divine lines that can only be seen
By the Sons of God.
And he sings:
Whenever ignorance takes hope captive
Whenever a city beats at divine lines –
Move it.



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