A ROSE OUTSIDE THE MOSQUE AT FULL MOON:  7/1/04

When the heart is open
its mirror image
is the rose.
That?s one way to know.

The mind is faded catalogs and fireworks;
it doesn?t scallop softly into itself,
turn on an axis
with others of its kind.

Imagine the rose,
become the rose
when symmetry goes
and love?s heat turns tame.

That?s why breezes are there.
A bath in moving air
reminds us
that consciousness
is also skin, breath,
maps torn to shreds,
the cool, flaming
delicious kiss
of emptiness.

        Claudia Naila Schulte