Friday, 5 August 2011

A thousand whirling dervishes


Last night my wandering hand had chance to linger
on the thin skin that connects your thumb and forefinger.

And this small touch
moved me so much,
that in the temples of my heart, where I'd kept the incense burning,
a thousand whirling dervishes cocked their heads and began turning.


50-word poem by Lisa Falzon
image source found on the CC on FLICKR, original here

7 comments:

  1. Yes! Perfection. What a divine way to spin the essence of faith and devotion. Thank you. Worthy of Rumi. In fact, to my twenty-first century ear, better.
    Perhaps rhyme can stage a comeback if poets like you unflinchingly stand to announce the small "s" sacred inside the de-complexified.

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  2. Love your work so much. I have one of your prints, you are super talented!

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  3. I'm impressed with much of your work.

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  4. This is my favourite one of yours I've read so far. Absolutely brilliant.

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