To the heart on fire
everything is tinder
no matter the guise it wears

tender in the rain
tender in the night
tender in the light of dawn

he comes up to me
and his face is alight
rolling like a ship at sea
slowed but not stopped by
a history and pain that does not
really intrude on our meeting.

My friend! My friend! He calls- how are you?

I sit on my stool, I have my tea!
I have these beautiful hills to keep me company
and I watch all the peoples as they go by-
I am a lucky man.

God loves us: god loves us-
this said with no preamble
and his eyes are mine for a moment and
of course I agree
as it is only the truth of every breath.
God loves his faithful servants; his good people;
he blesses us with life- what more could I want?

The car is full of gas now, and he shuts off the pump.
Asks if I would like my receipt, a proof
that he and I were here, together:
yes, I would, if you don’t mind-

of course, habibi, he says, quietly, and rolls
through the unseen waves of his being to the office and
back again.

And I am gone and somewhere else. But the flower
is still unfolding,
the fire that began has grown larger, even now-

and God speaks to me, through an old man on the hill
in his broken English
and calls me His own.