A Year of Seeing: December 30: “Minaret”

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The sound of the bells
stayed close that morning because of
the fog and clouds that
pressed down and gently held the memory
to give it time to soak in.

The kindness of his eyes and
the love in the squeeze
of his hand had seeped in my skin
and filled the place where
love loves to settle down
and rest a while–
only, so much space is there it seems
and what filled me yearned
to make its way elsewhere–
onward, to rooms that lacked.

The only way out was from
the eyes, in the spill that
flowed and surprised me when
it came in a cracked word laid bare
for all to hear.

The tower was low to the ground
that day, so we could all
look the muezzin in the eye
as he slowly opened his mouth
and called us to prayer.
SH 12/30/2019
(After having the gift of giving Last Rites to an incredible soul between services on Sunda

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