The path was never marked, yet I had begun, alone.
The first step echoed softly — I was one, alone.
I spoke to stones; they held their counsel close,
and taught me what endures when speech is done, alone.
The rain became a language I could learn,
its syllables of comfort never sung, alone.
No crowd could hide the hush that found my heart;
I’ve stood within the noise, yet heard none, alone.
Now night and self make peace without a word;
the world unfolds, its circle run, alone.
The candle’s smoke rewrites what I have known;
the poet fades, his song undone, alone.

8/2/2026
Oh, wow. This is my first experience with a Ghazal...and I like it a lot. The repetition feels very Middle Eastern (perhaps a la Jewish Mommie: If I Haven't Repeated Myself A Million Times Today, I've Been A Failure...) It also reminded me of what happens during Passover and the reading of the Haggadah when the word "Dayenu" (Enough!) gets repeated antiphonally. This has such a mystique feeling to it. A lovely sway and swell. Does it always require the same number of syllables first and second line, or does it always have to be ten (or eleven?) I enjoyed this very, very much. Thank you for making me smarter today!! xoxox