A Ghazal for Silence
Sitting at my desk, like a spacious sea, at home,
Through a window I see an old oak tree at home.
A flower is in bloom in a vase in a room
Below a landscape painted recently at home.
Waiting for the bus to work she ignores a jerk,
She recollects a gathering for tea at home.
The vast desert sands, in the afternoon he scans
A long life he lived intermittently at home.
At the AA Meeting some familiar greetings
Followed by stories of recovery at home.
Faces of friends fade into the afternoon shade
Cast by a tree that blossomed recently at home.
The melodies of birds at his window are heard,
He writes quietly in his diary at home.
An icon of the Lord and a Psalm like a sword,
There is the incense of eternity at home.
My name is Fitzgerald, it’s silence I herald,
Which I embody slowly, oh so slowly, at home.