A Lev
(Fire/firelight in Turkish)

A Lev marches into eyes first. I smell
where we have loved. Her fingers
waken trance as if we phantoms
appeased and now, flesh returned.

She was not lost. I never let her go.
All ends are nature. We transcend
light -- unknown masks in the dark.

Musk covers her skin. She revived
out of some darker blue more purple
haze made luminous from lives
revived from fragments of cuneiform
tablets discovered with iron chariots
near the Hittite city of Kanesh.

We live in translucent fragments
as majesty opens that vivid
road where we founded our lives
scattered and now lucid.

I whistle to her in our breath.
Her ears soft when whispered
more than words can fondle
as she pushed back horizon --
my grace from Constantinople,
when Roman law fell asleep.

We are larger than any war
imagined; our firelight into silk
to preserve that which drives
as we love with crystals and
every rock in every mountain
discovered as one unique blend
to remember steps we
never lost as we reach to cities
where ancient roads crossed
without start. We begin
again in the volcanic fire.

No one slows merry-go-round.
We have reached revival.
Reincarnation is not only means.
Spirits carry between sighs
and we search wells for light
that shivers through even
black clouds. We shape
new elements in rows
as the Periodic Table floats
with that great road set open.
One life A lev raises arms
and praised Allah what had
always come before.

It is more than a mysterious
fear unleashed at last retort.
We have begun. We appoint
shadows curled in daylight over
Bosporus Strait like a ruby veil.

.