governments dissolve,
guerrilla soldiers take
libraries hostage

what colors will you
wear for your love
tonight?

tsunami shifts north
to east, west to south
compasses explode, prayer
mats change position;
winds carry birds off
course; the lines of maps
are erased, names of
countries rewritten;
currencies drown the marketplace
and while apples and crockpots
flow down canals of city
streets, you taste another’s
mouth — lips that cannot bring war
to a stop, will not rebuild a
crumbling empire
except in your heart

© 2011 Tahminah Zaman

your walls and thresholds

are many

hand-carved, etched

with text

the color of bone.

i lay my offerings along the line

of your vision;

this love an extraordinary routine,

blessing the inches of

breathing space

within me.

i am possessed of the gaze

of the highest.

pulled to center

by the recitation

of your names.

mornings i sweep

earthen floors

to your praises.

altar of memory,

forget all my hardships

and internments,

return my displeas

ure and rage:

i am free

© 2009 tahminah zaman