Abou Adhem…

Abou Adem


 Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)

 Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

 And saw, within the moonlight in his room,

 Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

 An Angel writing in a book of gold:


Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,

 And to the Presence in the room he said,

“What writest thou?” The Vision raised its head,

 And with a look made of all sweet accord

Answered, “The names of those who love the Lord.”


“And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,”

 Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low,

 But cheerily still; and said, “I pray thee, then,

 Write me as one who loves his fellow men.”


 The Angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

 It came again with a great wakening light,

 And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,

 And, lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.

 By James Leigh Hunt


What brittle has fallen from tree to ground?
Sprigs in a white snowy sea as
Shadowy limbs face northeast.
Branches flounder and drift northwest.
Treading and losing breath
Wind spent and shipwrecked twigs, creaking and breaking
Submerging and reemerging, gasping for air
Like dolphins in a ghostly powdery wave where no one goes.

By Georgianna Marie
Photograph by Dave Dreimiller