Lady With Brown Hair - Cheryl Thompson
Before there was a hint of civilization
I carried a memory of your loose strand of hair,
Oblivious, I carried inside me your pointed tip of hair.
In its invisible realm,
Your face of sun yearned for epiphany,
Until each distinct thing was thrown into sight.
From the first instant time took a breath,
Your love lay in the soul,
A treasure in the secret chest in the heart.
Before the first seed shot up out of the rose bed of the possible,
The soul’s lark took wing high above your meadow,
Flying home to you.
I thank you one hundred times! In the altar
Of Hayati’s eyes, your face shines
Forever present and beautiful.
- Bibi Hayati
d. 1853
Transl. Aliki Barnstone
The Shambhala Anthology of Women’s Spiritual Poetry
