Two Poems by Yunus Temple

On Knowing

We are all born knowing ‘how’
We are all born loving
We are all born with the number
of tears to cry
written upon our hearts

Who taught man how to mourn?
Who taught man how to fear?
Who taught man how to burst with joy?

expressions from the Expressionless
and colors from the Colorless

The One sits hidden
yet manifests on the faces and hearts
of everyman.



Each of us,
a television broadcasting
Broadcasting messages from the unseen.

“Which channel are you tuned to?

Where does your programming come from? Your shows?

Have you wondered who writes those dramas?
what quality have they, these writers?
the lightness of angels?
the darkness of devils?”

Do you no longer care what you broadcast?

Hedonism attracts the heathen,
while quiet hours of reflection attract the peaceful.
Wherein lies your attraction?

For each of us, each of us, a reckoning of action.
Will we be ashamed? or happy?

Do we fight ourselves against evil deeds?
Or swiftly surrender to our base desires?

“No mountain grows tall,
that erodes at each rain fall”

The day is half-way done, the week flies past.
Years tick on.
Time hastens itself; the end rushes at us.
The other day, light touched the gardens of youth,
while now old age beckons.

And what have I? What stories to tell my Lord?
When the night draws over all, what stories will I tell,
in the intimate silence with the Lover?
Shall I weep in regret?
or Shall I babble my happiness, like the joy of a child?
On that day who will win?

A saint once wrote:

“read your own record today, before the day when the scrolls are brought forth”

Walking with knowledge,
Avoids the poisons and pitfalls
that manifest and bear witness
on that Day of Days

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