Freewill is the effort to thank God for Her Gifts:
when you negate freewill you ignore that generosity.
Giving thanks for the capacity of will
increases your power;
relying on destiny’s course takes the gift from your hand.
Believing in predestination
is like going sleep on the road-
don’t sleep! Don’t sleep,
until you come to the gate and reach the threshold!
Mathnawi I:938-942
‘Growl’ said He.
Liquid steel trickles down her spine.
‘Root’ said She.
Grit and sweat combine.
Shoulders preserve mountains.
Longing wakes the dead.
‘I am here’ said He.
She walks.
The angle here is acute,
shadows kiss the light,
and joy whistles through her hair.
In a dark wood
far far away
she stirs her cauldron
3 teaspoons of rain and shame
Cook with fire
History etched in her skin
salt from wounds that sing
the graceful spoke
great intentions wrote
and the drops of perfume
didn’t make it easier
Who is she
when the lines were drawn
before
before she woke
Come she cries
stir
wider
stir
gather
the East
North
South and West
and stir
120grams of liquid scars
Why did they think
they could
fit stories in jars
Sprinkle with 16 grams of voice
and stir
An ounce of …them
to name one
is to name a nation
Stir
In a place
as close as the jugular vein
She stirs the cauldron
Ripped wings
and a dance.
Smiles stretched
with giant safety pins on either side.
Gently pulled by a soft cotton
tied
…to an ornate statue
…………..in an ironed and dressed garden.
She left them.
They took it.
She ran before.
She ran after.
Sometimes,
she stopped running.
In a pleasantly lit home,
she is bleeding
there is no movement
but breath
thats all there is
this breathing.
In this heavy light
I sit,
every inch of me
wants to run.
And to remain
…how do you remain?
Within the entangles of desire,
we are all here,
this moment.
Trying to remain,
dancing with Glances in the dark.
La illaha il Allah, La illaha il Allah, La illaha il Allah…
Chewing,
sticky rice with other stuff in it, all clumped together.
Earlier this morning she left new shoes in a charity bag,
they will be worn by a woman with light silvery hair.
On a plate are pieces of carrots soaked in soya sauce,
the carrots remember seeing daffodils blowing in the wind.
An empty chair in the London restaurant,
calls the tired woman many places away – she is paused in someones war.
A plastic folk on a table near by, lies across an empty plate wondering,
‘is this it’?
Standing outside, his mouth dry, he remembers a long time ago –
when he bought bottled water, from the comfort of having loose change.
A Newspaper lying in the trash, listens to the sound of the words, somewhere not so far, bullets sparkle in the sky,
and a thousand miles from this place –
a 7 year old boy holds his ears to the sound of fireworks.
‘Draw the circle bigger’ says the army sergeant sat in the corner,
‘Yes’ replies the lady in prayer, kneeled in the same space many years later.
Falling his eyes glance the sky,
his thoughts,
‘had I been a cloud I would have travelled far.’
“Whats the plan?”
Give the seat on the train,
pick up leaves,
and hope to smile when it rains.
Instructions for Milk Sevviya
1- Add butter to a hot pan and the black seeds from the lechi.
2- Crush the bunch of sevviya with your hands lightly so they break apart.
3- Add the sevviya and brown.
4- Add the milk and simmer for about 45 minutes – adding a tava (hot plate) underneath the pan helps the milk not sticking to the pan.
5- Add the sugar and cook for about 15 mins.
6- The milk will thicken as it cools.
