North


O what thanksgiving,

to float hungry beneath stars

in this desert - space above,

space below.


Solitary, friendless,

traveling north from Makkah

I've kept the promise.

and now you are free, my heart.


O what dangerous liberty,

shedding the skin of idols,

naked in the desert - darkness before

darkness behind.


Empty, weary,

north to Al-Madinah,

I've kept the promise,

and now you are free, my heart.


Frank Gorin
1997