Past life memories arrive like postage stamps, now and again;
tiny landscapes; details lit with focussed lamps, now and again.
Letters sent in dreams, spoken messages, twilight
journeys, up escalators, down long grey ramps, now and again.
Flat on my confused astral between time and sleep,
I must beware of spiritual scamps, now and again.
And the one who does and the one who observes?
My constituent parts pitch separate camps, now and again.
From The Tiny Whizz through to system-builds,
Brahma, Vishnu, Mahesh force decamps—now and again—
Ptolemy the spark; Rameses the bricklayer; Cleo
the kohl grinder: past life shoes require neat vamps, now and again.
Whose are all these fire-lit faces? Men, women,
children shiver, pray in dew-soaked damps now and again.
Ceaseless wheeling from one life to another. Fair
to hellish—Karma revs up the amps now and again.
It’s not you, Michele—or whatever you name is.
It’s the Ceaseless One off on His tramps. Now. And again—
MICHELE WAERING began thinking about the ghazal form through the poetry of Francis Brabazon and Hafiz. After further research led her to Ravishing Disunities by Agha Shahid Ali, she thought she might try writing ghazals herself. She lives in Renfrewshire, Scotland.