and then our exile

today, then, the prophet, His peace and blessings upon him, the beloved, throughout eternity, was born, light to encompass the world.
today, too, he arrived in madinah.
and today he passed from this earth.
-

today also incident'ly noor's birthday. she: at the age i left for shaam. this i cannot believe, i was either incredibly young and did not notice or - she has grown old without me noticing. i cannot believe the passage of time, it is something i cannot believe. she came to our last 149 class, it was the final projects performed. our scene opened with pacing in the background, included shouting impassioned rhetoric and trying to break someone's head with a stick. over the past few months, in this class, twenty-some individuals, an entirely new experience - how somehow we all opened to each other: i worked with nearly every person, a "ridiculously diverse" group, over its course we revealed some of the most personal moments in our lives, people cried in class, we sung, discussed intricacies of metaphor, constructed realities, laughed a lot, and absorbed theatre. today he, his very anglo-saxon british accent, said my name correctly - the entire class clapped and cheered. later was complaining about our chant, that we did not recite by heart.
d: they should have been memorizing this weeks ago, they should have been chanting it in the shower each morning.
t: the lights, it was my fault.
d: no it wasn't! they have their own showers.

-
my mother: just get your work done, you're so tired.
b: i'm not that tired, i'm going to have tea.
m: you're not that tired / you're going to have tea? i just want you to feel like a human being.

(the mothers of the world, a ni'mah beyond consideration)
-

moss blooming red stalks - i cannot describe, the words fall apart in tatters. will post picture when developed.

april is the cruellest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.
winter kept us warm, covering
earth in forgetful snow, feeding
a little life with dried tubers.
summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
with a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
and went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
and drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
- eliot.