A Khan’s Prize

Darling

It’s not the events that happen to you

Those are just marks of art

On to the next navigation young soldier of heart

Lick your wounds for a moment -

Taste the salt of success compounding in your veins

Out from under a variety of hidings

Between intimate sheets of God’s manifestation

And our own daring discoveries of Love

Gracious gardens glorify glad tidings

That bring forth rain & romance from above

Silver caskets of my ancestors are asmoke with passion

Arise from death oh Lovers in glorious fashion

Sound the alarm bells of Heaven

That Bashir is arriving

Reap and Sow