By Mehrdad Mehrju
They threw the dice one by one
spun in the air
arced through dust-motes, sunlit
free— rolled and rolled
bone on earthen floor
until a double six
the witnesses’ eyes are widened —
unblinking
not merely circled
nor merely seen
but woven between where was and where will be
a ring of happiness within their ring
a pattern traced in invisible hands
where beads led them home
— bright and deep
where ancient spirits breathe
a woven, sacred space
a home of souls
in time and timeless grace
where in turning of circle
my soul forevermore became one with yours.
*Mehrdad never chooses a name for his poems, he believes in the hermeneutic nature of poetry. He does not wish to guide the creative audience into the world of the text. Instead, he wants each reader, upon encountering the poem, to arrive at their own understanding, shaped by their own experiences and interpretations.
