This is the sun.
And I am home. The nest 
the peacock angel protects

waiting faithfully.
The man tells me –

Look, see the Black One
who hovers on the thresholds.
See the One who can save humanity . . .

He tells how human dignity 
was preserved by the height 
of these mountains.

He says Our sun is the first to set.
The baptism of children is a wish 
hung on almond trees.

I start on the knots.
I begin in the dark, untying 
wishes sealed into velvet.

Spring has come –
and your departure is 

He tells me –
Leave your cold tears at the door.
This is our burden.

Don’t forget
You belong here by the mountains.
In the morning we will welcome you . . .

Making off erings to
almond trees and stones,
in scarlet velvet,

hearts undimmed by pain,
they recognised me –
a secret believer. 

I found calm sorrow in the mountain’s den.

And yes – I will come home,
to the almond trees and those knots
forgotten in the mountains. 

1 March 2014, Lalesh


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