from his minaret
a muezzin calls,
seeing new light lengthen
into shadows on the streets
as those of prayer approach,
first of five calls
that he never forgot
he served god as a voice,
sound of wings caught attention
a white falcon landed before him
perched on stone edge
head tilted
eyes spoke more than the beak,
voice faltered in mid call
from the remnants of dark
tattered crows flew in
looking for the rejected brother
kaf left behind,
muezzin touched falcons face
communicating
as the faithful below watched,
crows taunted minaret
hollow eyes caught flash
of gold,
muezzin had been spoken to
a journey to be undertaken
to which of the seven valleys
he was unsure,
he had to find the bond and unity
that once nurtured earth
as he had remembered it,
with falcon on arm
stepped down spiral staircase
a purpose found
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