The Annealing

                                        The love I give is intended for another
                                        like seeds set out in a trap to catch birds.
                                                 –Ibn Hazm of Cordoba (994-1063)

Some lights flicker, all too ready to die not burn.
The earth breathes, lets go a long sigh, and is filled with sea air.

She said Ibn Hazm had broken her heart more than once.
You try, in vain, to find the source.

There are always crimes waiting to be committed in the heart.
For example, you love her unwisely,

one or both of you may have the heart broken without help
from Ibn Hazm.

The votive candles flicker and go out. It’s the wind, of course.
You wait for the priest to come, then give up and go home to pray

God guide you on your way, if some other way she must go:
O do not let me harm her heart, too sweet to tamper with . . .

If there were only salt in the water, the fish would thrive.
The fishermen go back to their boats, glad they are alive.

(30 December 2010)

copyright 2010 by Floyce Alexander