torrential blessings

do you remember that little rock I had,
the thin one, split right through its side,
like with a coronal plane you almost forgot—
o how the roads all stretched for us!
fastest tracks for most heavenly eyes—
it was a strange thing, I can’t remember it,
whether I found it in twain, or had I mercilessly cleft it asunder, somehow…
but I remember how you looked at it,
at the two parts, made perfect for each other,
yet made apart, as if god himself took the thing,
tiny and simple as it was, and cracked it open like a book
filled with the secrets of the universe,
and all the subtlety of beauty—
your sad eyes then—forgiveness—
made me remember I was a man and forget
all the things that try to harm you—
but then I told you you were complete within yourself,
and you needed no one else, but wanted.
was I just too late, I always thought, like a fool
until I looked up and saw the spaciousness built but for eyes like you,
and hearts like yours, and bodies in submission and sweetest surrender—
and I can see the light peeking now,
in every coming storms’ graying clouds,
and instead I walk towards it, towards that sweet trace I chase—
I don’t hold on to these material things,
though I can treasure their sights the same.
I never did, I have everything to remember you by,
always, in the palm of our hands—
o those you’d cup for me, so unabashed!
and I’ve found it again, another piece of our earth,
its about the same size, but whole, fuller,
like me now, maybe, or you, telling.
and it’s round, domed, like the world
I still want for you, and in the palm of our hands.
and I watch it pour and pour, pure
over the cities and streets,
through the highways and dirt roads—
I listen to all the sounds I could never capture—
but how they’d whisper themselves over to you anyway,
like angels sent for me, to lift the way, with ease.
I pray for it, for it’s abundant blessing
the way the only real man I ever knew ﷺ did the same,
just hundreds of years ago.
cherish the waters, and their highest ends;
we have nothing else but this sweet earth I want to hold on to,
ephemeral as it is, all its rocks and roots and hidden gems,
but let our word live on.
and never think you I was alone,
never think our lord would abandon,
save that we stay true, and through it all—
see how the leaves bow, splash
after splash, drinking our love—
look how the winds wash with it
our faces and spirits, drenched
in the promise of life and light,
cooling our passions, letting us rest
with knowledge,
that what comes comes, and what falls
falls, and what will rise from the rubble,
perhaps, was worth all the trouble—

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