44.
the days became weeks
as majnuun kept his vigil for a reply from layla
but instead of the old man arriving
it was his uncle saliim who returned
his head hung low, his countenance sad
his eyes red above his paled cheeks
he stood before his nephew
ready to unload his burden
one he knew not how majnuun would receive
“your mother...”
his voice trailed off under the weight
of his emotions
“many were the days that tried her soul
but now all that is done
we pray a better world receives her
since she has left her bones to be buried
beside your father”
the whole world seemed to freeze
majnuun was overcome by an inexpressive shock
he felt his body tense,
culminating in his clenched fists
which, once he exhaled,
began to violently pummel his own face
then there were wild shrieks
mixed with blood and pain
the animals began to stir
saliim backed away
helpless to assist or comfort majnuun’s rage
then all of a sudden
he dashed down the mountain slope with great speed
his animal companions following in stride
he ran without stopping
across the expanse of the sands
the day into night into day
until he reached the edge of his hometown
there the animals waited
as he continued his quest alone
to drop his head at the freshly dug grave
beside his father’s grave
behind his father’s home
his cries of despair rang into the distance
if they could,
the intensity of his laments
would have raised his departed parents
instead his mourning attracted
servants, neighbors, and fellow members of the clan
to that shadowed garden
upon seeing him they greeted him,
offering sincere consolations
“we mourn as one clan our loss”
“this is still your home”
“remain with us, long lost friend”
but their words only increased his agitation
he wanted to cry over his mother’s grave in peace,
alone
but they wouldn’t let him be
even when he tried to leave
he had to break free from their grabbing hands
and flee from their chase
and flee he did
to his waiting fortress of protection
as the lion and panther stepped forward and roared
the wolves encircled him with howls
forcing the people to retreat and watch from
a distance
as his companions escorted him back to the wild
never again was he to be seen in his hometown
this day was, in a way, his funeral to his clan
grinding his feet upon the wind-blown sands again
he was buried permanently from their presence
words of his mother resurrected themselves
to haunt him
the shortness of life amounts to no more
than a few exhaled breaths
something like that was what she said
to leave him pondering
how little of his few breaths remained
and would they all pass
without being with layla,
layla alone
do we really breathe into eternity
for even if our breaths span a thousand years
what is it all worth
once that final exhalation is exhaled
from the first breath
the seal of death is stamped upon our flesh
our expiration destined after our allotted number
of breaths have been expelled
birth, existence, and death have long been
inseparable
and either can appear at any time
to leave another of its markings on fate’s canvas
to establish, spin, or erase
our individual mirages
upon the endless specks of reality’s expanse
specks that we regard as distinct
within the indistinct mass of what is all
this life is really nothing
nothing more
than a candle burning its own light in the sun’s rays
the candle’s light is virtually invisible
within the sun’s light
even if the flame dances in an aura of color
the candle’s light is insignificant within the sunlight
yet, given the indivisibility of light,
there is an invitation to be that greater light
or should i say
to be the oneness of light...
nizami says
accept this invitation
and all birth, existence, and death
will become your servant
(yes -- a (oneness) servant)
within a greater servitude
❍ ● ❍