Posted: 29 May 2013 05:00 AM PDT
by Askia Nasir BilalIts Words are ten stone slabs in the bosom piece
Air
mountain pegs holding my celestial body in place
coral reef, beached whale bones
bleached pale
poems can’t touch the place its page reached
“Read!”
was the Word that squeezed free his rib cage
The seed rooted and breathed branches across ages
planted an oasis in the desert-chested
took its seat in the minds of peasants to sages
who halt and fall at all corners of earth
their foreheads transformed to lanterns
Its Words are not the spells of a soothsayer
not a madman poet who sought profit
they are Lanterns from on High
cast into our clay frames where they hang shimmering
meteors passing through our frozen membranes
floodlights to consciousness
Its Majestic Speech
would make skies weep and bow
a lightning bolt to the boulder-breasted
God Willing
to those who ingest its message
it gives their spines polished posture
God Willing
those whose heart-tongues host its words
their clay forms are molded into noble vessels
God Willing
It draws the mirage out of mankind
strikes the living dead and mends severed body-hearts
Its Letters — ladders leading to higher selves
God Willing
“Read!” was the Word that made his rib cage its throne
Nor was he known as a liar
A Warning-harbinger, Glad tidings
Its passages lead passengers to meaning
It vibrates through our barren vessels until
we are shattered whole
“Taught man what he knew not”
like stones thrown at our glasshouse false selves
showing an Opening to True Purpose.
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