The Martyrs’ Song: Shiraz 1983

 "And now the handmaidens, kin of the martyred Mona,
will sing: 'Gaze upon Time' on a spring eventide
that begins on earth and ends in heaven.
Swayed by the sun, we reflect on the moonlight."

In the land of the pupil of the eye;
through creative space we fly
the Mouthpiece of God fashions our wings;
the higher we glide, the more we are awed.
A fenceless place immersed in open space;
water, air and fertile soil join in light.
Like caged slaves sprung from caves,
the burst of souls blooms in delight.

"Shab bekheir va khabhaye shirin" the Persians say.
"Good night and sweet dreams!"
The ropes give way.

The song you sing shuns all sadness;
fears flee, hearts hail the gladness.
The sky whirls in glee and sound,
o'er feet that scarcely hang above the ground.

Who among us belongs here,
and who dangles from the other world?
Somewhere, somehow, we hover
over earth and heaven,
both realms mingled into one;
the mystical mass that must leaven
the bodies tangled in madness.
Fears flee, hearts hail the gladness.

No kinder voices than yours are found
to clothe nightfall with lullabies.
Meek garments, calm seas mystify
the dreamy sounds mirrored on your souls.

-- C.S. Cholas
11 ‘Azamat 180 B.E.

 

 

In honor of the 10 Bahá’í women of Shiraz executed on 18 June 1983

Mona Mahmoudnejad, 17;
Roya Eshraghi, 23, executed along with her mother;
Simin Saberi, 24;
Shahin (Shirin) Dalvand, 25;
Akhtar Sabet, 25;
Mahshid Niroumand, 28;
Zarrin Moghimi-Abyaneh, 29;
Tahereh Arjomandi Siyavashi, 30. Her husband, Jamshid Siavashi,
     was executed two days earlier;
Nosrat Ghufrani Yaldaie, 46. Her son, Bahram Yaldaie,
     was executed two days earlier;
Ezzat-Janami Eshraghi, 57, along with her daughter Roya, 23.
     Her husband, Enayatullah Eshraghi was executed two days earlier.

We all come from somewhere.

             We all come from somewhere.

We all come from somewhere.
Before the first crack of dawn
Somewhere we have never been
Like the light at the end of the tunnel
That it too bright to see what the light beholds.

We all come from somewhere
Up and at them before we know
Anything about them or ourselves.
In the beginning that has no beginning
Somewhere in the end that has no end.

There are records of my time of birth
In a place I do not remember
At a time before the beginning of man
Before the time that man forgot
Lost in the folds of the earth.

C. S. Cholas
6 March 2023

Thoughts go wandering during the Fast

 

 

                                         SISTER

The cheerful voice
            Still leader of the pack
            Since the neighborhood days of childhood
            Lanky gang of summer evenings – curfew at nine

Now transformed into arranging networks
             And the right guests matched over dinner

Easy to faint, spilt milk as a girl, fascinated by boys
            Their psyche.  Transcended all that with sons
            Of her own, watching them grow and follow
            Similar, then different paths:
            One on whitewater rafts and mountain trails,
            One in the northwest rains with a Bosnian wife,
            And the younger, more social one
            Who struggles on the battlefield of the mind.

                                     11/08/07 Remembering Elaine

 

The Night Jupiter Spoke to Me

Journalists, like parrots on TV news
Spew out chaos in broadcast views:
Bad things happen to folk scorned by fate
Promised dreams forced to wait
As human life spun in blurs, lost in bigotries,
Cannot save cherished idolatries
Of right and left bereft of light

Nameless and traceless souls have new birth
To lead the nations foretold in the Holy Book
When the “meek shall inherit the earth.”
Greed prevents the mighty from seeking a deeper look.
As they sink in the mire of unbelief and vices
Entombed by their own devices.

Last night I heard Jupiter speak in my ear.
Jupiter said something of cosmic light.
Whispered it without a word of fear,
As I stared into the solemn night:
A word crossed the black sky outside my door
A mumble and nothing more.
And then all went still; Jupiter a dull dot in time,
And I listened to all that blackness between
Me and time, between time and love;
Between love and what should I do next?

So much space on my hands and no way 
to grasp it:
A jumble and nothing more.

I glanced again before walking ahead.
I was sure that Jupiter said:
Night bodes a glorious Day.
Inhale the promised metaphor
And let the humble lead the way.

C. S. Cholas
12/18/08 Night Sky over Hilo:

What is Jupiter associated with?

In astrology, Jupiter is associated with the principles of growth, expansion, healing, prosperity, good fortune, and miracles. Jupiter governs long distance and foreign travel, big business and wealth, higher education, religion, and the law.

Was a time

We swapped tales
Fishing for words that lay hid
In streams with indigenous roots
Behind rocks with geological names;

We shared snapshots
Of nameless faces we met in ordinary life,
Reflections of God from places
As diverse as Kayenta, Burrell Boom
Or a hospital waiting room in San Juan.

Was there meaning behind the scars?
The stuttered speech, the missing teeth?
The smell of Ponderosa Pine needles
Rising in the smoke of a Colorado campfire?

Was a time
We pondered the metaphorical nature
Of our physical realms, helmsmen
On a mystical boat in heavy fog
At night when the lapping of waves
Has almost gone still.

-- C. S. Cholas
27 September 2007

We all come from somewhere.

We all come from somewhere.
Before the first crack of dawn
Somewhere we have never been
Like the light at the end of the tunnel
That it too bright to see what the light beholds.

We all come from somewhere
Up and at them before we know
Anything about them or ourselves.
In the beginning that has no beginning
Somewhere in the end that has no end.

There are records of my time of birth
In a place I do not remember
At a time before the beginning of man
Before the time that man forgot
Lost in the folds of the earth.

 C. S. Cholas
6 March 2023
Thoughts go wandering during the Fast

 

Echoes Behind the Music

Bach runs in trills about the backyard in major tonalities.
Joy must come with twenty kids
Running up and down the organ keys
Must give them thrills.

While Mozart mourns in minor melodies
He, too, has highs and lows, going forward.
Struggles with “Black Thoughts”, hysteria and unpaid bills,
Fights battles through the Requiem suite,
Emerges playing the magic flute
In the backyard behind the watermills.

C. S. Cholas, Colorado October 22, 2021