Portrait of Mor

fifteen years later,
you are not like a ghost.
we are settling in
to this routine of ears
not needed to hear
and eyes not needed to see.

every october,
my eyes and ears may still search,
but it is more gently now.
my heart is a bridge
from me to you.
as grief work finishes,
our new relationship
teaches me faith.

i never believed in God
until you died,
but you knew that
and said,

"remembering is like
the glimpses of that ocean
you found when you looked into my eyes."

and i remember how i would say,
"mom, when i look into your eyes,
i don't see the place where they end."

it was my first lesson
in the meaning of eternity.
it was the first time
i would learn the distance
between us is nothing
when i walk with the words,
"i love you".

yes, love can turn it all around,
leading a girl and her mother
to the same path
even after the mother's death.
i do not grieve anymore,
i just remember
the universe is too mysterious
to take you away. i know you hear
me when i say, "jag alskar dig."

We Are One

drawing Allah in and out
of my heart merely
opens the door to the universe.
i am nothing less than i am
and nothing more...

you and i, Beloved,
we are each other.
this breathing is
the constant sharing
of Allah's breath...

this is where we lose life
and this is where we lose death,
swimming into the eternity,
the unending, the boundless,
the Only One that is.

even in the darkest places,
you and i see everything.
we are the eyes
of the One Lover,
bleeding drop by drop
into the One Mother,
touching

atom to atom,
blending and blurring
and becoming One.
in this universe,
we forget we are not separate.
we can only remember when
we whisper into each others hearts
and hear our own.
Ya Allah.
Ya Allah.
Allah
Allah
Allah
Hu.