I spent all day and all night in a barren garden. <br />The screeching of three crows kept song-birds <br /> from perching on the solitary tree. <br />Later, the nightingale could not find me, <br />because no rose bush cast its scent into the cold air. <br /> <br />Across from me, for hours, sat a poor man, <br /> with folded hands and bowed head. <br />His eyes looked nervously at the crows, <br />Later, they fixed on the absence of nightingales. <br />His shirt was torn, and he apologized twice, because he had drunk <br /> all the wine and given his rubaab to another poor man. <br /> <br />But - the silence around us was a future music <br /> we neither composed nor performed. We listened for hours. <br />And our thirst was more intoxicating than the most expensive wine. <br />I closed my Book, rested my head in my right hand, <br /> and watched all day and all night <br />as his face became pearl and crystal and moon. <br /> <br />I don't remember the sun rising to summon me to prayer. <br />Everywhere I looked was gently shining light, <br />and when I finally knelt facing Mecca, <br />the prayer itself spoke me into heaven. <br /> <br />Daniel, you have been claiming the age of miracles is over. <br />Pay attention! When one happens, just rejoice!<br /><br />Daniel Brick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-a-barren-garden/
