Prières Persanes Silencieuses
O! The Sublime Hidden One:
Conceal me midst the seventy thousand shrouds [1]
A secret betwixt the light and the dark
So the wolf of her loss shall never hunt me down
Conceal me amongst the Columbus clouds
A sterile-thunder in darkness of her sobs [2]
So my eyes shall never rain upon her grave abound
Conceal me between the holy pages aloft
A sacred angelic hymen hummed
So my sobs shall never be heard by mankind aloud
Conceal me silken amongst the Tuba blossoms [3]
A gown tailored by angels of the skies
So she shall never walk naked the gardens of paradise
Conceal every blazing sun into the ocean of mine eyes
My vision boiled away blind
So never behold her life-less eyes lowered into dust
Conceal me a deadened note of the trumpet [4]
Clarion call commencing the reckon
So I shall not be raised to account for her tears

AIDS was her dowry, funeral procession her wedding, bridal suite her tomb, where she lost her virginity to the ever-young groom of the dust. Her honeymoon is this picture and what little chance she is proffered, she lives in our eyes for a glance or two, gazing upon herself in agony and loss, like a lioness prancing upon herself to hunt. Those feet never got a pedicure for her wedding and before she passed on, I… yes! I denied her meager pleasure of a clean garment, buried swaddled in the invisible cerecloth woven by her own tears. Her angelic hands never prepared a full meal and never wrote a word in any language. And I murdered her with my very hands, hands made from negligence and arms muscled by finance. [5]
Though she is alive and accounted for by her Maker, I forgot her to death! No! I was busy worshiping the god of amnesia, whom wealthy are his subjects, machines his angels, buildings his saints and money his scripture.
Writing these extolled words with hypocrisy, sipping a cup of coffee like aristocracies, a cup sweetened by the labor, toil of her life-less sable svelte hands. And I am that arrogant false-god, who forcibly squeezed the sweet nectar of her child-being. So I might, my mightiness galore, taste another momentary pleasure to the brim.

[1] The Sublime Hidden One is the Creator who wishes to be in hiding to see what we do to each other, once we are left alone, some having power over others. Between this Beloved and us there is seventy thousand shrouds of light and darkness, I will add the Hadith (narrations from Prophet Mohammad) reference for this later on by Allah's Grace. I have not found the original Arabic text. I learned this usage from Araqi.
[2] Sterile-thunder is from T.S. Eliot
[3] Tuba: Arabic/Koranic word for everlasting unconditional happiness or the name for a fantastic large tree in Paradise, the fiber of its blossoms makes up the gowns of righteous dwellers. Koran Ar-Rad (Thunder) 13:29
[4] This little nobody Haitian girl died from AIDS and we think, we suspect, we exalt ourselves above and beyond all responsibility and liability. But what was sent to the heart of Mustafa (i.e. “The Chosen” another name for Prophet Mohammad) clarion calls to our ears, “Hey! You shall be raised to answer for these girl’s death and suffering”. Trumpet reference is from Koran Az-Zumar [39:68]:
“The Trumpet will (just) be sounded, when all that are in the heavens and on earth will swoon, except such as it will please Allah (to exempt). Then will a second one be sounded, when, behold, they will be standing and looking on!”
I am asking for exemption from that day.

[5] Imposing embargo on natives of Haiti is meaningless and serves no purpose neither for peace in this small forsaken island nor benefits any neighboring country nor the world as a whole. It only serves the purpose to destroy their righteous and good mannered peace loving folk and promotes the murderers, crass gangsters and black markets. Haitians are butchered not with weapons of any army, but with financial atrocities to starve them to death and destroy their young generations one after the other. Of course AIDS is not helping. That is the meaning of a murderous arm muscled by finance.

Background: A Haitian girl dying from AIDS in a tropical storm.

© 2003-2002,  By Dara Shayda