Yesterday we sat on cushions
Underneath a tree.
Cake and chocolate muffins we ate
And conversed with cups of tea.
Today I looked at an illustrated book of poems
By the mystic Rumi.
Almost every Islamic image was of figures
Bent at the knee.
In apple orchards or garden courtyards these lovers
Met in beauty.
Adorations in every gesture whether serving
Food or poetry.
Their garments flowed into the earth via
The cloth at their feet.
Bowls and pots and cups and plates were rocks
In an embroidered stream.
In the undergrowth of plants around might crouch
A hare unseen.
Or peer behind a distant bough a deer
As though paying heed.
For still were the minds in such sunlit glades
In such a ceremony.