in the middle of the souk watching the people
as they shopped, gossiped, and milled about.
As I watched, a tiger the size of a large man
slunk silently into the midst of the market
wary of eye and licking his lips.
It seemed that no one saw him but me.
Oblivious, people laughed and argued and haggled
all the while the Power of Death padded at their heels.
Listen, my soul, this is how it is:
the Power of Death is always at our heels,
creeping up behind us, as we go about our business
without a thought for our peril.
Najat has seen him now, and knows that this is no dream.
Those jaws are real, and only the goodness of the Beloved
keeps that cat from catching us before our time.
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