المصير السماوي

BE incense.
Cuzzle me with fire
and fragrance upon burning ash
in the thurible of faith,
your finger beckoning me,
Come.

Fill my nostrils
with your sweetness
and pure breath,
your light touch and soft neck,
where a restless spirit
rises to your lips
and breathes holiness
into my longing for you.

Be thou my vision
of the purer touch:
Lighten--make fuller's white
and fine as flour--
the stain of what is shirk in me.

Be the way:
Give me a prophet's words
as the smooth path,
as smooth as skin,
as dangerous as flesh:
for the path is rutted
only to fools,
and all ways lead through night
to you in the waiting day,
my pilgrim guide and visitor.