Song of Iran

The flower of your thoughts
colors my world,
and artisans
of red and indigo
weave the wool,
and my soul
walks through mountains
adrift with snow
in a place apart...
and only we can know...
a single string sings the song
that stretches all along,
from birth to death
on which we hang the threads of our hearts,
and where they dangle
at the mercy of the wind.