Why just ask the donkey in me
to speak to the donkey in you
when I have so many other beautiful animals
and brilliant colored birds inside
all longing to say something
exciting and wonderful to your heart?
—Hafiz, “Why Just Ask the Donkey”
Dear, though I have come to you
as many other beautiful animals—
long-necked swan and Persian cat—
though I have worn for you
my most vermillion feathers and
sung to you with the voice of the bird
that always disappears before it can be named,
though I have come to you as lamb, as heron,
please, do not refuse my donkey.
Clumsy and stubborn, all tug and bray,
gray and dull and smelling of dung,
of course you would want to turn away.
But please, if you can, meet me this way,
when I am awkward and stepping
on my own feet, yours, too. Meet me
when I am unlovable and love me then.
Though I stink. Though I am not graceful
nor lovely nor easy nor strong. But here
I am, nuzzling your hand as it opens, aspiring to
be nowhere but here. Dear, we are nothing
but flesh for life to push through. I am done
hiding inside the bright wings, or even,
for that matter, beneath the dun hide.
Only a heart touches another heart.
Here is mine.
