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.