A Gift of BEcoming

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for rabia

(in celebratory joy of her eleventh

year of ascension on planet earth)



How profound of proverbial sound

I be in saying, you mean the world to me.

I ask myself, where is Rabia’s poem? 

But that’s like asking, who created God? Or, where is HE?


I asked that once and my mind locked up on me,

Like now, as i ask my interstellar soul

For disclosed witness of the song i am forever singing to you…


You are my dream and its awakening landscape,


The sun in my sky,

My reason of why,

The dot on my i,

The cross of my t


The bend in the knee of every prayer i make,


You are my living book of Mirdad - 

& IAM forever tasting you.


You are the undertone of

My ancient humming Buddhist bowl,

The wind of breath within the eternal flute I play,


My dream slinger,

My joy bringer,

My Alpha and Omega,

My First and my Last.


IAM the transformational Ark of Noah, alahis salam,

& you are that invisible rudder which governs all my strategic mooring,

&  no loneliness or enemy can abide when you are near my heart –


My endless song is a poem of you,

The coming of your Sun has freed me from the weight, pain, and glue of this world,

& the happiness in your eyes has made me learn to laugh and dance all over again,


What grace of lace upon my dress of self you are,

A mirrored reflection of the best in me,

& through you, my image shall quantum thIS OMniverse.