Tessa Ransford OBE, Hon.DUniv (Paisley), MA, Dip Ed
Poetry Practitioner and Adviser
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  The Persian Carpet
The real gardens are in the heart ( Jalaludin Rumi)

Dawn begins with a hymn, birds and clouds, music and flowers
and the crested cockerel of day crows us to prayer

Flowers are lavish jewels in the meadow to glint in sunbeams and dance
transfigured in chalice inlaid with topaz and pearl

Deep-eyed deer and squirrels, from serpent to valiant steed
sanctuary for lives in abundant measure

Rocks stand piled on rocks, top crazy, the many mansions of heaven
pavilions for shade and raiment of green and gold

Medallions of lapis lazuli are hidden aquifers
where rivers run of honey, milk, forgiveness

Dark shadowy cypresses, willows weep and grieve
pear blossom and parvaneh adorn the parkland

Water channels keep flowing however arid and barren the wind
mapped on the carpets, they irrigate the gardens

Sevenfold walls of mud or stone protect from the King of Locusts
who wears disguises in every cared-for plot

The first wall is our family - the second our teachers -
the third our friends - the fourth our home-felt place -
the fifth is our hope - the sixth is our kindness -
the seventh is a lighted lamp in the tent of the blessed
at the feet of the knower and lover of ancient wisdom.

Roses may wither but poems endure - buildings decay and fall
yet the word is hidden encoded over the earth

In devotion we walk the line the square the dome the turret, the fountain
to kneel and adore our carpet, our paradise garden

parveneh = butterflies

Tessa Ransford
Written after exhibition and conference at the Burrell Collection, 27th March 2010

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Pamphlet poetry |  The Callum Macdonald Memorial Award