13.
in the vault of her forced isolation
the blossom toiled
yet within the catharsis of her denied love
her beauty increased a millionfold
layla
her destiny ironically reflected in her name
as her life became an unending night
yet within the absence of this world’s illumination
an inner light revealed itself
of such luminosity
it would make the sun a shadow
thus, any yearning soul who caught a glimpse of her
fell to covet her
young men were moved to intrigue and passion
by just a glance of her
although her glowing form allured them
the sharpness of her gaze checked them
where they were
she became that forbidden fruit
close enough to enchant the eyes
but beyond the reach of the wanting hand
to remain a spellbinding temptation
the one adored
barred the affections of the one who adored her
had to resort to a constricted adoration
she had to find discreet ways
to express her love for qays
such as the tears she cried
on the inside of her face
her proclamations of love she had to restrain
to the pulsations of her veins
hugs, caresses, and kisses suppressed
to the clutching of her blanket
was it a surprise then
that she would awaken in the middle of the night
soaked in her own tears
uttering the vexations of quiet sighs
that silently yelled out his name
her fire was stoked in such secrecy
that even the flames burned
the vapors of smoke
before they rose
treading her own sands of despair
within a desert unseen
without leaving a trace of a footprint
although she wanted someone to confide in
her circumstance afforded no human ear
her shadow would listen
but offer no response or counsel
her tears fled from her testimony
descending to seek their own comfort
and her reflection seemed to only mimic
and ridicule her pain
yes, pain
this was the abyss
in which she struggled to exist
a faltering of life which would not die
the only thing that brought her temporary peace
were the bits of majnuun’s words
that found way to her ears
a passing conversation of praise or ridicule
of his madness
citing portions or summaries of his verses
the children weaving his words into their songs of play
with melodies and messages that lingered in her memory
a lover’s plagiarizing entreaty overheard
possessing the unique flavor of majnuun’s poetry
or even sometimes in the quietude of night
the wind’s howls would bring traces of his voice
to the cries of her insomnia
or sometimes the howls would decrease
to become a breeze
that kissed her sleeping ears
to happily whisper sweet messages into her dreams
the hunger for direct reception
of his expressions continued to mount
but her hopeful patience for his coming
was only answered by a continuing absence
a suffocating pressure yearning to communicate
until it could no longer be restrained
since the one adored could not be praised directly
she became the adoring one to send praise
remembering the traces of his words
as uttered by others
she composed her own responses to these,
her own verses
and to invert the standing tradition,
each response she began with her signature:
the hyacinth sends another fragrant whisper
to the rose bush
in the concealing nature of the night
as if answering a bodily call to nature
behind the outhouse
she would release scraps of paper to the wind
trusting the scribbled verses would somehow
make its way
to her beloved qays
she knew if they reached him
he would know who they were from
* * *
as fate would have it,
supportive of this love humans denied,
many of the scraps found ways to a sympathetic hand
perhaps those lost were the ones
majnuun’s heart had not the strength to bear
and were better left as orphans to the wind
but her words of reply now became part of majnuun’s lore
this intimate conversation between two lovers
transpiring through others’ voices
at times,
as if as a boon for the tortured
someone would bring a scrap directly to majnuun
knowing the intention of their delivery
would be fulfilled
the lover,
recognizing the voice of his beloved,
would instantly respond with spontaneous verse
and the witnesses would be so moved
that they saw to it somehow
that majnuun’s reply reached layla’s ears
one scrap said,
the hyacinth sends another fragrant whisper
to the rose bush
“the wave that reaches me must return unto the ocean
yet my sands by thy pearls are nurtured
may thy tide never cease, recede never
although thou art absent from mine eyes,
thine every word i cherish”
majnuun erupted to proclaim
“they say by the sun’s light all the earth is sustained
nay,
this ocean is the child of the night
she is the moon that moves these waves
her own dark light resplendent within
yet it is shrouded by the constant inconstancy
of the sun’s light and the whims of passing clouds
yet even while these obscure
her light shines still
and can always be felt
just like the presence of the new moon unseen
“her i still feel
flowing unendingly toward her shore
let the deep of my waters withhold naught from her
upon thy sands all my treasures i lay
open and unguarded
for thee, let poverty be my wealth
“just to know that thou art pleased with me
makes this torturous hell a glorious paradise
and so went
the disjointed symphony of these two lovers
the members of the orchestra finding great joy
in the rendering of this tragic composition
one in which
the chorus of backing performers
were also part of the enraptured audience
yet beyond the pain these lovers suffered
there was something that contained a gist of bliss
unbroken, unscathed, untamed
by this world’s torment
❍ ● ❍