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by Michal Mahgerefteh
Above and around the Mercy Seat
stretched wings encode His Will
to the Material Universe through
the ever changing horizons: the sun,
the moon, the stars-at their zenith.
Nevuah uses words to encompass
a mark upon the forehead of men
falling like rain from heaven. And
I, with an array of weaving, wrap
the Fabric of Time around thyself.
by Michal Mahgerefteh
I wait for words to inscribe softly,
to direct the days to come. In this
waiting my throat is tight, unable
to voice a shade of worthy memory.
I reel in the house of flesh, listening
to the breathing of sleeping nature,
drink ’til drunk on pomegranate wine
and lean against the wordless night.
by Michal Mahgerefteh
I yawn and rub my
eyes at words as they
sneer at my fruitless
toil; no leaf unturned,
day after day, even
for a thousand years.
by Michal Mahgerefteh
At the edge of faults hidden
thoughts, sculpted and flowed.
But tonight Love came to my
door to pour milk over words
and parchment, descended dark
in a blaze of molten gold. And
I and Love, entwined in each
other’s arms, vowed an equal
ardor. My face suffused with
cheer as Love marked my door
with   chai  chai  chai.