Read an Excerpt
The Voyage of a Scholar
On the day that paper clips and files
And memos snowed upon a city
I opened an unfamiliar book
To see what had brought that storm
Each night I brushed back dreams
By turning pages of profundity
To learn what had placed death
In the eyes of passport photos
The heavens opened for
Forty days within my mind and
Soul in a Noah’s flood of
Confusing certainties
The willing dead were absent in
Every word but my forty days
Left greater questions buoyant
And curiosity unvanquished
I sailed twenty times
In seven years through
Surah seas of calm swells
Pushed by winds of conscience
Twenty times I charted their
Depths – truly Pacific –
Before I knew that I
Knew nothing
When tranquil winds lifted
La ilaha illallah I heard a soft
Muhammadur Rasulullah
Slip without thought from my lips
A book read twenty times asked
When I would embrace its truth
And in a small stillness I replied
Now oh Lord, Now
Florida Pastor
Tool, cruel, mistaken fool, grabs for fame, causes shame
Christ would cringe, this done in his name
Flames winning, Shaytan grinning, charred mess, success
Promise spoken, entirely broken, failed a single test
Eyes blind, blackened mind, should’ve read the book
A tiny pyre, the world’s ire, three minutes all that it took
Wanted, gained, anger blamed on Muslims always hated
Love missing, wisdom dismissing, happy with Muslims baited
Anger unbound, fists pound, Shaytan fanning the flames
Control left behind, grief in mind, anger pulsing in veins
Streets swollen, crowds emboldened, victims caught in rage
The irony is, the book forbids this, hatred not on a page
Message ignored, calmness abhorred, playing into his hands
World worse for that man’s curse, tension sadly expands
One copy alight, one billion alright, their power even greater
God’s mighty word, always heard, untouched by one Muslim hater
Today’s World
What will you think when you learn
That I have been bowing low like
Those who pulled down the brothers?
What will you think when you learn
That with hands by ears each day
I whisper the phrase of the cockpit?
What will you think when you learn
That I discover truth in the book
Found in lost luggage?
What will you think when you learn
That I have chosen the same faith
As the one in the cave?
How will you know
That I would never let my elbows
Touch theirs on the floor?
How will you know
That I have reclaimed the words
Stolen by the devil in the pilot seat?
How will you know
That I read the same book
But cannot see the same words?
How will you know
That I would not share his path
Or enter the wasted air of his cave?
