Thanks to Mohammed
Chris Cryer – United States

Thanks to Mohammed,
I go
slow
now,
wherever,
however…


To beyond
the shadows
of the castle
where serfs
toil poor,
where lords
but pass
courts
of the arid,
paltry,
gritty,
and slow,

Where I find
and know
a dragged-out
home,
thick and whole,
mean and full.

There
my chair
is floor,
my prayer —
breath,
my dance —
bows.



Time
does not reach.
Ramparts,
moats,
parades,
and floats
pall.

Always near
the call,
my song
is long,
steady,
and strong,
pulse of pain,
tribal moan
of man on bone.


Thanks to Mohammed,
I live apart
from kings and art,
from matters,
plots, and flags.
The skill to sit
so long and slow
is what we have
and all we know.