The veils of time grow thinner
with the passing years,
mending old wounds
and giving way to new ones.

I find that I now greet you with the embrace
of an old friend accustomed to your visits.
You bring with you all the memories
I didn't think to keep in my youth,
therefore binding me to you.

Your kindness reveals itself
in moments when the whole world
seems to have stopped in my pain,
and the only comfort I can find
is in your promise that all that is made shall fade.

And yet your cruelty unmasks itself as ruthlessly,
echoing every present moment of laughter with the innocent
laughter of my youth,
reminding me that nothing I have is for me to keep,
anything worth having is better off freed.

I have made and lost friends, homes and lovers
with only you at my side as a constant.
Yet I grow ever more aware of your shadow
slowly weighing itself upon me
as if you are afraid I would ever know
what it is like to be without you.

With each breath I learn to live with you,
that perforce,
I might more willingly embrace death,
and courageously wear these hidden scars bearing
the memories of mortal wounds.

Inasmuch as your existence has robbed me of time's treasures,
I gladly allow your presence to wash over me
keeping me mindful of the ease
with which this world of illusions can consume me
and drown me in the abyss of self breeding
nothing but endless desire and heartbreak.

Sweet, sweet Impermanence,
the world is lightened by your presence.

How else could the earth withstand
the weight of the myriad of broken hearts
buried within her womb?

- Azam Ali

The Remembrancer

In times of old
when fair maidens
bathed in the shade
of willow trees,
and the woods sang
a song of their own
and castles sailed
upon the crimson seas,
tales were told
of a forgotten heaven
of which no mortal
could worthy be,
a heaven though lost
in the illusions of time
drifts somewhere
in the mists of the sea.

And I meet you there
in our silent dreams,
in the tacit stillness
of life's sweet delicacy,
where music is a memory
of a world once ours
and a bitter longing
for a world unseen.

How your breath caresses me
like the nurturing hand
that built love's fortress
around me,
and placed me in this prison
of flesh and bone
to learn the joys
of being free.

As we witness the birth
of magic around,
the voice of death
let silent be,
for only Love can free thee
from the womb of time,
and there, in your memories
you will find me.

- Azam Ali

"The Mortal Seed"

Gaze into your heart
where you will see
remnants
of what used to be,
thereupon she planted
the mortal seed
in the garden of
celestial glory,
where her breath
like the movement
of a subtle breeze
doth ever so gently
caress the leaves,
her voice
like a distant melody
so alluring
and graciously free.
How the stars
take comfort
in her saddened eyes
and her tears merge
with the billowing seas,
for the mortal seed
has now become
the bitter fruit
upon the forbidden tree.