Release

Understanding comes without invitation and knocks at the door, and yet she’ll often elude a lifetime of the most sedulous efforts to find her. She is a mystery deeper than the Marinas Trench, darker than the void between galaxies. One can only put himself in the path of experience and knowledge, then hope for the best.

Release

When letting go of vain understanding,
One begins to attain understanding.

In the desert, a sea of sand stretches;
Wind bestows to each grain understanding.

If one will not wake from shifting dreams,
What good is it to gain understanding?

A rolling ocean of flourishing pines
Rose from earth to sustain understanding.

When one holds a whisk or a staff upright,
Speaking will only stain understanding.

When lightning flashes across a dry night,
The sky is soon to rain understanding.

What hinders the mind will hinder all else;
Why struggle to retain understanding?

Rivers can swell till, flooding, they burst
Banks not meant to contain understanding.

All seekers find the way in due time,
And then release inane understanding.

Gray grasses bend in myriad patterns;
They yield rather than strain, understanding.

The traveler on the road to heaven
Is filled with an arcane understanding.

The rosebud opens itself to the sky,
Not wanting to restrain understanding.

Be still, Zahhar, there is peace in the wind;
Never prize nor disdain understanding.

This is my 97th ghazal.

Publication History:

Muse Apprentice Guild (web-based) — Fall 2003

Unusual Host

This was written for my friend, Alan, in December of 2002. I’ve made a couple of minor revisions before adding it here as a backlogged post.

Unusual Host

For Alan Polson

Much like his awakened and spherical host,
He is often a poised and ethical host.

An ordained Buddhist monk turned registered nurse,
He is both a mystic and clinical host.

Tea, pastries and cakes greet a visiting guest;
This preparedness marks him one practical host.

Walls hidden behind a banquet of reading
Propose he must be a most lexical host.

Undaunted in candidly sharing his views,
Conversing reveals him a critical host.

Long since disillusioned with man’s morbid ways,
His outlook reveals him a cynical host.

Trailing to snores in the middle of speech—
Fatigued, he is rarely a vertical host.

He may start to dream amid conversation,
But awake he remains a stoical host.

Zahhar has known many a host in his time,
But never quite such an atypical host.

This is my 94th ghazal.