Amir, Prince Of Treetops, Now Sleeps In His Bright Yellow Room Poem by Warren Falcon

perhaps you are

a bee sleeping in

the heart of a flower


the stone of your

head softening

sweetly upon a pillow


your little hands

open into bestowal


while you sleep

the sun ripens

plums into honey

upon the little

feet of the bee

of Mashhad**


Little bee

you awaken

a child screaming

'injustice'

you carry his

cry to parks

to courts


authorities have

declared war on

yellow and pillows


all plums are

suspect


Innocence is

threatened with

exile yet still

in a shrub beneath

the golden window of

the girl you must

love in secret

you smile and

recite Hafez


and the walls of

state and of the

local god are

falling finally

down truly one

as rubble


still the powers

that be refuse to

see blood and dust

though the lemon

trees at Ferdosi's

tomb are opening

into blossoms

proclaiming a

kingdom of justice

through bitter tears


little bee now

sweeps the little

room of its heart

your heart

of hope

and fear


the muezzin calls

fly away all to each

his dutiful prayers


bee too flies


honeys the feet

of those who would

kneel to be closer

to the Friend

whose Voice is

sweet in the halls

the streets the

friends of the

Friend of Mashhad


they do not know

that the bee up

from flower-heart

is busy keeping

the peace


flower

by

flower


they do not know

that the child

sleeps whose hands

are gentle bestowals

always counting

slowly

one two three

at the top of

his tree


**Mashhad is the second largest city in Iran and one of the holiest cities in the Shia Muslim world. It is also the only major Iranian city with an Arabic name.

Mashhad is also known as the city of Ferdowsi, the Iranian poet of Shahnameh, which is considered to be the national epic of Iran.