Wrote this poem for Tahirih, one of the letters of the living, many years ago
For Tahirih the poetess
In Faith
Be a hollow reed
Waiting for melodies
And the notes that breathe skies
And the skies that breathe navy blue
And the navy blue that breathes sea
And the sea the breathes woman
And the woman that breathes of your unveiling and peeling away
That skin of your ego loosening and falling
The cocoon the morn
In Badasht last century
The morn.
(c) June Perkins
June Paisa Perkins 