A Rose in a Garden

I was once between… roses it seemed… minds can’t perceive… this beauty
A garden of roses and just one spoke to me
A garden of dreams… and my heart yearned… its beauty
And with mercy the rose within it spoke to me

* * *

I was once left to wander throughout a garden… with red roses it was ridden
I wandered like an orphan… when no heart cared to raise me
Yet with my heart, I felt the roses and wondered… as through this garden I wandered
What if I had surrendered… were this rose to speak to me?
And with that one thought, one rose lying there caught my eye
I gazed at it and I just cried… for its beauty, does not know me
Yet it’s in the palm of my hand… and with its tears it spoke to me
Saying child, I am Ali… I’m here to guide you from your tide, to the safe shores of my mercy
And my heart choked… to me you spoke… what a miracle you chose me… O’ my Haider Ali

And I was ashamed… that I’d been named… to understand… this beauty
And in asking for my name, this rose spoke to me

* * *

How can it be, that with all the sins I had done… loving you could make them undone
When before I had no-one… you gift your love and toward me?
And then this rose, to me it answers my question… saying, “To me you’re no orphan
My name in you is written… so I choose you to follow me”
I looked at this rose, confused yet certain, I don’t know
Content yet wanting tears to flow… and from its roots, I plucked this rose
There and then, made a decision… I cradled this rose close to me
Crying Ali, I’m your Shi’i… now you’re a part of my fragile heart, and to the end of time you’ll be

And I held it near… within my tears… my waiting years… this beauty
And though alone I may walk, this rose spoke to me

* * *

And with this rose in my hand I pave a future… with this rose, I see but wonders
This, the blessing of Haider… that will always abide in me
I walked through a garden that taught me forbearance… and instilled within me patience
With all the strands of grievance… that will continue to haunt me
I looked at this rose, and beams from it love and mercy
If Ali holds a grip on me… then my grasp shall stay on Ali
And I pave my future in gold… as love of Ali weaves out gold
Breathed in beauty was this household… every road presented before me, though once hazy becomes so clear

The gardens whereabouts… I don’t know… but I know this rose… was Ali
And I became Shi’i because to my heart, this rose spoke to me

* * *

(London – 13/11/10)

 

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