24.
when the sun rose
majnuun continued his descent
into the deeper depths of the ocean of the desert
but now his drowning was labored
by the fatigue of exhaustion and despair
the sagging of his body
shadowed the sagging depression of his soul
yet he stumbled somehow upon a patch of relief
an oasis of green grass and trees
surrounding a small pool of water
he dipped his mouth into the bubbling,
uplifting stream
the coolness of the underground spring
still upon the swallows of water he drank
with the days’ long dryness of his throat wetted
and the emptiness of hunger temporarily filled
his satiated satisfaction dwindled into a slumber
the body was replenished for now
but his soul still in wanting
veiled by the numbness of sleep
this discontent painted his eventual awakening
with alarm in search of an unfound consolation
he felt something was watching him
perhaps something that could understand his pain
but no human or animal was in sight
his eyes continued to scour
until a motion of a wing made it noticeable
the dark hue of its feathers
melting into the dwindling light of dusk beyond
its eyes were powerful and focused
with a potent stare
piercing the fog of majnuun’s arousal
“oh, thine eyes
they glow with the penetration
of layla’s gaze
only she can see me now...”
it suddenly moved
gliding to another branch
yet it seemed as if its eyes
never turned away from him
then the nod of its head
followed by a transfixing glare
as all that was happening
became eerily surreal
the present moment seemed to unveil
its own credible doubts
about its own existence
as something more
something much more mysterious
peered from behind it
is this the waking world
or a dream so pure it seems real
he pondered aloud
“oh friend, as i dreamed
i felt i was a humming bird
so vivid was this dream
i can still taste the flowers’ nectar
upon my tongue
but as i awake again to this body
my senses feel so dull
my consciousness dazed
such that i must question
was i a human being dreaming
of being a humming bird
or am i really that humming bird
having a recurring dream
of being a human being
or should i say
a nightmare of this human life
denied the union of bliss
with my beloved”
then another thought arose on its own
“or perhaps i am something greater
interweaving dreams of being both
within the ignorance of what i truly am”
the raven gave
no reply
only those staring eyes
what are the boundaries of dimensions
in the seamless oneness of reality
a dream awake fantasied by the veritable
to actualize illusions that emulate existence
and yet,
if i am that humming bird
where is layla in my awakened reality
i have only seen her form
in these recurring sleep visions
of a human being experiencing
the torture of being separated from her
oh layla,
she must be more than a flower
for while the nectar is sweet,
the pleasant taste fades
yet my dreamed longing
for that beautiful woman
has only expanded
and increased intensely
to be sated by no taste
and yet,
if i am a human being
dreaming of being a humming bird
the pleasure of the escapade
has already become worthless
for in an instant
once i remember i am not with my beloved
nothing in my existence can be happy
not even the lingering ecstasy of a dream
and yet,
if i am something greater
interweaving the pleasant dreams
of a humming bird
with the nightmares of a human being
denied the latitude of love
my life must be empty
if the only glimpse of happiness i have
exists as something unattained
in a recurring nightmare
yet,
i would relinquish my life
for the reality of nightmares
because if i can’t be with my beloved
at least let me be within the same realm
she occupies
or in the illusion
in which i dream her to be
my sweet...
oh, no more words
i can’t even say her name
within these rumbling, rambling thoughts
that ravage my mind
although words cannot say it all
still something must be said
this silence will not remained buried
behind unparted lips
or untorn flesh
so he stood to address the raven
his dramatic motion startling the onlooker
which took flight
disappearing into the dark of the sky
yet once the fruit falls from the tree
it is bound by gravity
which escorts with unseen force
its descent to the ground
thus,
the emergence of spontaneous verse
continued its potent flow
despite the departure of the audience
it was intended for
even if to be spoken to no one
“to see but not reach
to touch but not grasp
love calls for surrender
yet its burning surrenders not
i am torched by this flameless inferno
that blazes recklessly toward emptiness
yet the nightmare is not affected the slightest
by that which consumes me”
and so the raven dissolved into the heights
to become one with the darkening sky
and even more,
as is the nature of sleep visions
it metamorphosed into a seamless collage
of countless ravens
the duvet of their interweaving wings and tails
left no gap within the reaching expanse
to form a celestial blanket of black-blue feathers
that stretched from horizon to horizon
and beyond
the only intrusion upon this cascading canvas
was the scattering of their illuminating eyes
open, closed, some with protracted blinking
composing points of light with an array
of apparent randomness
although their presence was noted
he still felt alone
for not a single one of the countless eyes
seemed to understand his soul’s discontent
then the madness took over
razing within as he continued to search outwardly
for what the nightmare did not contain:
union with his beloved
the unfulfillment continued to burn until it burst
recurring nightmares that don’t end
have a way of breaking dreamers
and there he was
a madman sobbing upon the night sands
in the shadows of a shadowy oasis
yet within his cries
the arising realizations could not be suppressed
this head bury i in the sand
to try my shame to hide
from the eyes of the night sky
who am i
that i should regard myself as an “i”
someone worthy of anything,
even my beloved
to thee i owe mine existence
an afterthought of thy creation am i
whyfor should i ever consider myself
as something independent
with its own merit
such arrogant delusion
has led me to believe
that i am someone who should have others
fight a war on behalf of me
others have bled and died
for my efforts to attain thee
so much foolishness
and irreversible destruction
i now regret
who am i that i regard myself
as someone or anything
in relation to thee
a humility remembered too late
naught am i,
layla is all
a lover should be naught
but adoration for one’s beloved
nothing more than the nothingness,
the emptiness
of complete devotion for one’s beloved
forgetting this,
i have only driven myself further from thee
again an “i” i contrive
i pray the sins of my forgetfulness
have not driven me beyond
all possibility of being united with thee
in this world
if so,
i have none other than mine “i” to blame
an unending source of mine own suffering
may i be dead to mine own “i”
❍ ● ❍