Send the Chaperones Away

Inside me a hundred beings
are putting their fingers to their lips and saying, 
"That's enough for now. Shhhhh." Silence 
is an ocean. Speech is a river.

When the ocean is searching for you, don't walk 
to the language-river. Listen to the ocean, 
and bring your talky business
to an end.

Traditional words are just babbling
in that presence, and babbling is a substitute
for sight. When you sit down beside your beloved, 
send the chaperones away, the old women
who brought you together.

When you are mature and with your love, 
the love letters and matchmakers
seem irritating.
                       You might read those letters,
but only to teach beginners about love. One who sees 
grows silent. When you're with one of those,
be still and quiet, unless he asks you
to talk. Then draw the words out 
as I do this poem with Husam, 
the radiance of God.
                              I try to stop talking,
but he makes me continue. Husam, if you are in 
the vision, why do you want me to say words?

Maybe it's like the poet Abu Nuwas,
who said in Arabic,
                           Pour me some wine,
and talk to me about the wine.
                                             The cup is at my mouth
but my ear interrupts,
                                "I want some."

O ear, what you get is the heat. 
You turn red with this wine.
                                        But the ear says,
"I want more than that!"