The Rendezvous

My prayer mat is
of midnight blue,
like Mary’s veil,
like mercy’s hue.
Upon it stars,
a ladder true
to clamber to
our rendezvous.

And as I climb
these woven stars,
my soul reflecting
I wonder deeply
at Your dark
midnight pouring
in my heart!

Oh, what a scent
of wonder this
of nights they bowed
and bent to kiss:
those friends of God
in ocean’s bliss,
outstretched hands
of ambergris.

And of that night
my Prophet flew
on Buraq to
his rendezvous,
beyond the stars
and even through –
bow’s breadth
away from You!

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