Article 2

In the confine of my bedchamber, my amber rosary on my left hand, I draw on my chest the shape of the Prophet's sandal (facing up as if to connect my heartbeat with my brain) with the tip of my right index finger, and across it, the phrase حم, muttering the litanies that come with it.

I close my eyes. Darkness, everywhere. Water, everywhere. Everywhere filled with moving twinkling lights, as if to say the sky is an ocean populated with fishes that are fireflies. And, suddenly, like a whale swallowing a group of smaller fishes, the moon emerge, its brightness overwhelming the presence of fireflies. And in every small puddles on the field, counted to be seventy, the moon is found multiplying itself.

hide and seek . . .
the full moon reveals
a shadow

"Where are the stars?" I ask, as if the moon will reply. "Where are the stars?" I ask, for the umpteenth time. But my voice only echoes into distance with no response.

"Where do I go from here? Can fireflies ever do the job of the stars?"

And a voice sounds from the distance, "If a person prepares a feast for the community, it may not be enough. But if the community prepares a feast for a person, it becomes overwhelming."

"Is the one person the moon and the community the stars? So, what then?" I ask, to which it responds, "You have intestines, liver, kidneys and brain, all working fine; I hope the heart of your heart begins to."

And there is an immediate and sudden explosion of light that almost swallows me. While thinking of what happens next, I find my eyes open into an endless sight. Still in the same position before the eyes were closed. A shadow escapes through the window, a droplet flows down my forehead.

starry night –
a boy sketching a comet
on the wall