32.
in the silence that followed
the significance of majnuun’s words
echoed in the old man’s mind
although it had already been obvious
he now truly realized
that the boy born as qays was lost,
probably forever,
to an inescapable captivity
within the asylum of love
although the lost treasure was found
it was beyond recovery
locked behind interlocking doors
that would not budge
the place of long awaited reunion
would now serve as
the place of what would probably be
their final goodbye
“what benefit accrues to me by regaining you
to only have you lose yourself to yourself
such a calamity would be worse
than leaving you here in the midst
of this brutal nature
yet i will not withhold the tears
that overflow from my devastated heart
our tears may emerge from two separate sets of eyes
but their origin is the same
as they fall toward the same destination
beyond this sand
“anointed by our melancholic tears
i am washed for the grave
may my sadness purge my indiscretions
to accept the escort of these my last earthly days
how else can i embrace the finality of this departure
without regressing to a hopeful longing
to change what fate refuses to change
for we are both now beyond this world
you,
in the remote, unchartered, uninhibited
barren lands of love
me,
bent upon the threshold of death
which hopefully will lead me
to the gates of paradise
“i thank the beloved
for allowing my eyes to see you once more
if blindness comes now
i will not fight it
i thank the beloved
for allowing my ears to hear your voice once more
and with my heart i listen
to what your soul says to my soul
although my mind resists in pain
i will relent and leave
to no longer seek what remains of my son
for i too must become something different
than what i was
leaving all my possessions, even my being
behind on this side of the grave
just the fate of my soul remains
for me now
“if a reunion is to be ours again
it will likely be in the next world
may your approach there
honor the purpose
which drew you into this world”
with one last look at the frail body,
also overcome with tears,
the old man turned from the shade of that cave
abandoning that place of death
to start toward his own home
where he planned to await
the coming of his own departure
* * *
the speeding donkey cart with men from his clan
met him on the way
as he hobbled on without the cane
he left behind at that dreary glen
they encouraged him to ride in the cart
but he insisted on completing this journey
on the weakened strength of his own feet
his own will and the mercy of allaah
serving as his carriage
emptiness filled the cart intended to carry
qays home
yet within each step,
he found an appreciation for what was fading
from him
he knew without any doubt
that the closing act of his own life was upon him
that the final shutting of his eyes
would happen within days,
if not hours
yet
he found more peace in these fatigued
and trying steps
than he had found in all his preceding years
realizing there is a mercy
in this world being a temporary abode
a realm submerged in endless torment
where all falls to decay,
sooner or later
within the pain of his struggled movement
more began to unravel its own revealment
like how freedom is not to be found
in seeking to protect your slice of this earthly life
rather freedom calls for meeting whatever comes
with a willingness to sacrifice all
with wise discretion
to honor a purpose that is true to what you truly are
even if everyone else disagrees
and such sacrifice
calls for accepting the reality of death
whose presence hangs upon our every breath
such acceptance compels us
to yield to things seen and unseen
that we may allow destiny to have its reign
to weave the fabric of our existence
to the will of the beloved
this alone proves to be
the only lasting fulfillment of this world
and yet so many of us resist this
even to the end
this
the old man only now fully realized
and began to truly understand
on the eve of his own death
perhaps the one who was his son
arrived at this realization much sooner
dying to all the falsities we paint as life
such that,
although his body was battered
and his mind tortured
his reputation abused
the vibrancy of his voice continued to sing
in its own glory
a testament of his true life found
it was this which echoed throughout
the desert mountains
veiled as eloquent verse
its alluring messages reverberating farther
than the sound his own voice would ever reach
enchanting the lands of arabia with the fancy of
marvelous visions and passions
stirring so many to the wonders of love
and even more
reverberating across the bands of time
that somehow his fallen body at that glen
would resurrect to touch the hearts
of those sensitive to love’s callings
for generations and generations to come
freedom
the old man reflected
how the memory of his son
will probably prove to be more alive and free
than the whole of the life the old man had lived
for his son had sacrificed
the whole of his life for love
while he, the old man,
spent the majority of his life grasping at sands
that could not be stopped from slipping
through his fingers
die before you die
if you wish to witness the secrets
of what life truly is...
❍ ● ❍