"cherubic" poems - Hello Poetry

Are you a witness of the precise moment on that very proverbial, unpredictable day when everyone did mind the gap but the Ramadan moon took a step? None could time it at first, as if it got out from a black hole or an uncharted water well: down the trail, who can tell? Now a day or two is gone, has passed by. The moon is in the fast lane soaring high, and fills the orb with serene soft light. Ah, buddies catch up, the suave fireflies. Tons of these stay awake in the night. Before they fly away, vanishing afar into the epic portion of the night. A confluence down the black moon, only to catch a glimpse of any pattern: a morning star or a forming pin bar, a slice of light on a gingerly lit chart. Premiering the Eid moon’s first blush. Yet, if only one can time it, when will it flash? Deep down a black moon, all eyes black out. Still, how can one sigh though? Ah, the unpredictable black moon, should it show just a peek, showers the earth with Eid’s joy! Will it show up in no time, far from the sight— galaxies light up the shady nook of night. A houri in the Eden rings the alarm. The veiled bunch of fairies push the sky. Every star throws its hat, only to tell first when a crescent moon will crop up And with the first spill of moonlight, topflight it goes, pushing the boat out! A walk down the black moon without a light or water gone into the blue, As though walking dead, blindfolded. No pattern, decimals of Pi undefined by design, but spot on gets to the apex spike! There’s still an unmarked blank space the light on this way doesn’t paint. And this time, the time won’t tell is there anyone who can is anyone’s guess. So should the houri dare to run, then cherubic she be on her flawless flaw, rushes to ask the Queen of Heaven! Oh, good luck to her, a wild one. Time the black moon, its first glance precisely when the Eid moon will crop up. Enlighten us, we are more than curious. Tell us, too—don’t just tweet it to the stars.

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May 19, 2018

May 19, 2018 at 8:08 PM UTC

shofi-ahmed

The Ramadan Moon

Are you a witness of the precise moment on that very proverbial, unpredictable day when everyone did mind the gap but the Ramadan moon took a step? None could time it at first, as if it got out from a black hole or an uncharted water well: down the trail, who can tell? Now a day or two is gone, has passed by. The moon is in the fast lane soaring high, and fills the orb with serene soft light. Ah, buddies catch up, the suave fireflies. Tons of these stay awake in the night. Before they fly away, vanishing afar into the epic portion of the night. A confluence down the black moon, only to catch a glimpse of any pattern: a morning star or a forming pin bar, a slice of light on a gingerly lit chart. Premiering the Eid moon’s first blush. Yet, if only one can time it, when will it flash? Deep down a black moon, all eyes black out. Still, how can one sigh though? Ah, the unpredictable black moon, should it show just a peek, showers the earth with Eid’s joy! Will it show up in no time, far from the sight— galaxies light up the shady nook of night. A houri in the Eden rings the alarm. The veiled bunch of fairies push the sky. Every star throws its hat, only to tell first when a crescent moon will crop up And with the first spill of moonlight, topflight it goes, pushing the boat out! A walk down the black moon without a light or water gone into the blue, As though walking dead, blindfolded. No pattern, decimals of Pi undefined by design, but spot on gets to the apex spike! There’s still an unmarked blank space the light on this way doesn’t paint. And this time, the time won’t tell is there anyone who can is anyone’s guess. So should the houri dare to run, then cherubic she be on her flawless flaw, rushes to ask the Queen of Heaven! Oh, good luck to her, a wild one. Time the black moon, its first glance precisely when the Eid moon will crop up. Enlighten us, we are more than curious. Tell us, too—don’t just tweet it to the stars.