My thoughts glide like an awkward skater around an ice rink,
sometimes pausing to do spinning tricks, at other times
leaping through the air, only to collapse on the floor.
There may be a brief moment of hushed silence, but soon
the mind resumes again with its entertaining performance.
I am the skater and audience too, imagine that!
There are a thousand would-be Persian poets on Social Media
posting about light and love and the breath of God, but my mind
just straps on its skates and goes out again to fall on its face.
Some say falling is grace, but not to the face –
this poem wants to say something
but perhaps it should wait.