(OF ALLAH, THE BIRDS, THE BEES AND ME)
MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN... THE MUSIC IS PART OF THE. MESSAGE...
https://youtu.be/ZPQW_YQ9XXA

Out here it's just Allah, dog, and me.
And the breeze... The breeze gently pushes the tops of the trees.
Dog perks up her ears, Allah whispering to us both.
Cicadas singing their part in a symphony that includes the birds, the squirrels, wilder things.
The forest breathes under our feet as we in synch with Allah move, as we synched become.
The sun falling on road, dappled shadows where relief resides... A moment in Allah's shade.
Our existence so profound... Our existence so miniscule as galaxies upon galaxies rotate and revolve in the heavens above, beyond the clouds and blue sky.
Who is more important than the smallest bee? Who is more important than dog? Than me?
Such philosophical glimpses as man reflects on Allah, as dog remains dog, as trees with great vines hanging remain trees.
All at the whim of the most gracious, the most merciful Allah wa ta Allah.
In this realm where we find ourselves molecularly, we Be

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SHE PAINTED GENTLY IN SUCH SOFT WORDS) DEDICATED TO SHERINA.
THE SOUND AS MY TEMPLES POUND...
https://youtu.be/j2EaIWdC1-Q

And if I were to draw her I would use charcoal to capture the very pure darkness of she.
Rip her and render her alive pon page.
Words and image combined as o bringing her alive would sketch her eyes, the Asiatic cut... Her lips, the juicy African plumpness... Oh my... My mind.
So much information as I contemplate her form.
Her breasts so firm as I trace her from mental horizons... The gentle rise of her belly, the thickness of her thighs.
The plumpness of her feminity as my temples... My temples pound her into the very crevasses of my psyche.
Her smell so sweet that I swayed would try to convey it as the most magnificent of odors ever to cross the hairs of my nose.
As it is inhaled into my lungs.
All these things as I poetic painter would preserve her pon paper... Pon computer screen.
Such a delicately lovely thing that I gently would treat it... This trans-dimensional journey into this realm where we in our love would bring life to dying world's.
I in hanging these words would stand back contemplating them as I would sigh...
A tear in mine eye a second before it following my cheek would fall to the floor.
Eventually evaporating away, back to the flow.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY