Ghazal with Praise for An Ocean

An ocean is concavity. Again, I evoke the nebulize of ocean
folding into ocean to bless our feet. Give me a widening ocean

before a thousand names for God. The songbirds are passing
over a prospect of blue prayer despite gravity. Say an ocean

may become a holy carriage for feet. I want to move towards
the direction of my ancestors. The trace of lineage in an ocean

in flux from Karachi into swift waters is ceremonial. I praise
motion by wanting to be a part of nautical miles. An ocean

lingers in the body of my grandmother like the sounds in a conch
shell. The folding of hands like a cusp of two tides in an ocean

is an offer of prayer. We arrive at our destination by the smell
of a proximate ocean. I want the singing to carry us as far as ocean

currents carry nutrients to organisms underwater. My grandmother
makes paper lanterns with shapes akin to waves in the ocean.

To be saved from elegy means being saved by an ocean.
We name the intimacy holding our beloveds an ocean.