Haibun - Rahat Loukoum

Rahat Loukoum


By the bank of the boat pond, Khadija and I lie down.
The morning star has turned evening and the sun eases
over the wisteria pergola.

Khadija sits up and rustles through her grandmother's
wicker basket. On a gold-rimmed plate, cubed jellied
jewels sparkle in a dust of finely crushed sugar.

I hold the tiny two-pronged wooden fork and pierce
the confection. As I touch my tongue to it, a burst of
simple sweetness is so pure, it draws me in.

Then, as I ease my teeth through the delicacy , the complex
sweetness of creamy Noor dates unfolds around pale green
pistachio and deepening Damask rose.

Sugar moon --
the prayer rug of grass
hidden by blossoms