Under Wraps

Sweet and savoury signatures of her spirit carve into the sleeves of my soul

Silver and sapphire tipped fingers string poetry on harp’s roll

Sweet music is in the air, maple and cinnamon sugar in all of it’s richness

Bringing forth the sheen of white pearled molasses in it’s thickness

Just a woman - t’is true, but what of this one, that brings me to my knees

She is not some idea, name, nor merely the Morning Breeze

With more Love imbued than any description can carry from human form

We are at must to consult with that Heavenly Body amidst the storm

Who wrote a scripture many of our forefathers forgot eons ago

But is forever found inscribed beneath my ribs

Under the cartilage that has sown this heart together

Sabah…

It’s from الله