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I
I am in a hurry
to read the lines in his palm
To go past the bustle in the market
To his room’s quiet
I step quickly and do not know
I’m pressing god’s most precious part underfoot
God has given me a precious life to play with
But fool that I am! I’m in a hurry…
II
He
Is so adept at arguments
of the marketplace; of politics
His face is so bright
I could believe he invented the wheel
(All the time some music plays in his head)
But like all the bright boys
He doesn’t know, god’s going to send him back
To school to learn how to re-fashion
The broken spokes on Love’s wheel…
23/2/08 (after Hafiz)
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