a ghazal

rumi’s ghazal 441 so
artfully mixed with techno-pop tones
haunting, divine and indescribably
sweet wash over me
to evoke images of another age
barely recalled and quite
possibly lost beneath the swirling
sands of place or time
yet surprisingly near
to the still beating heart
of all we hold dear
as your pale green eyes
reach across this distance
and lock deeply into mine.