A. E. Edwards

December Ghazal

Dashing particles of light, distant travelers of the East;
My mystic friend sees prajnaa coming from the East. 

Ambivalent simmering stew of words, an emotional feast –
The poet finds revelation devouring the East. 

The strange orient dreams – signals from afar;
Primitive prototypes of telepathy come sailing from the East. 

Perfumes and ancient minds follow the North Star;
The wiser finds the secret lying dormant in the East. 

The clouds are paintings of the sun pushing near –
Mythras stretches his arms like sunbeams of the East. 

A weeping mother wipes her eyes forgetting her darkest fear –
The soldier boards the plane set to conquer the East. 

Down south where churches grow around soybeans and rice,
My ears are in captivity by the tales of the East.