Even So

Even So

In our lusting for things far away and beautiful
wide rivers with birds
mountains folding away into sky
we sometimes spend days, whole months
in a vague forgetfulness –
What was it we wanted? What was it we knew?
Then in one of our most ordinary moments
CNN jabbering in the background
potatoes pared white in a pot,
a gray sky will lift out the window
and gold light will stream toward us,
or an image will appear that was meant to
sell us something but instead transfixes us.
There is it, the far away and beautiful
and here we are, the little person, the singular,
with the gulf of longing ever widening.
Buoyed and stunned, we could be love or fury.

PBSweeney 2006


5 responses to “Even So

  1. As lovely as can be. Just amazing 🙂

  2. Salamaat,
    thanks for the sweet comment on my site…I am happy you did write, because now I get to enjoy such beautiful writing here!

    I love this poem and I look forward to reading more of your work:)

  3. I’m very happy to have found your site. I’ve enjoyed reading your poems. Beautifully written and thoughtful.

  4. Salaams sister Patricia

    A lovely poem, ma sha Allah! Yes, such moments are rare and all the more precious for it. I think that it probably has something to do with switching off our conscious self. Not exactly runnin on autopilot, but more the letting go of all that world-stuff. The following poem of mine attempts to describe a very similar experience:

    A Perfect Moment…

    ‘I stood silently upon the platform’s edge,
    for once engaged in my true occupation,
    unplugged from the whirling,
    busy world around me.
    My gaze rose skyward,
    watching as God drew
    night’s auburn-coloured hem across the sky.
    And for a moment,
    in that empty space between
    emotion and thought and action,
    I saw her:
    Luna’s sweet face, smiling down upon me.
    And for one all too brief moment,
    She was There, as I stood Here: connection!
    And as our souls joined in brief communion,
    birds danced through the sky between us.
    And, fleetingly, I knew,
    I Knew!
    For most of my life, I have merely existed;
    in that passing moment, I was Alive!

    Ya Allah!

    Abdur Rahman

  5. Thank you for this. I love your poem. Sometimes the task at hand becomes a meditation, and from there – anything might happen! And then there are those moments of unconscious reverie, unplugged as you say, where again – anything might happen! Revelation, far from being rare, is always in the next moment.

    Ya Haq! Patricia

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