The Face of Allah

I could not find the face of Allah
In the debris of mountain slides,
In blue fragments of mosaics,
In the desolation of stars fallen behind
The ground-down blade of the moon.

I heard rumours he spoke in many voices
From clouds gathered at shifting
Boundaries of mountains and desert,
Blown in from the repetitious sea
Raging against the non-committal coast,

But I walked through valleys draped
In shadow, their broken sides layered
In the many-coloured strata of epochs,
And heard nothing but sand hissing
Over stones at the vagrant wind.

I could not find the face of Allah whose
Presence is premised by five ululations
Breaking up morning, noon, and night,
Calling me to turn my face to the earth.
I cannot find the face of Allah.

The sea says nothing. There is nowhere
Left to look in valleys or mountains, in
Clouds or stars, or the moon deep in dust.
I search fire and smoke now, the debris
I make; wet fragments and charred bone.

* * *

Dan Bern – Jerusalem

John Prine – Pretty Good

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Astronomy, Astrophysics, Atheism, Cosmology, Death, Desperation, Fanaticism, Islam, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Religion, Social Commentary, The Earth, The Moon, The Sea, The Sky, The Wind and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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