Naomi Shihab Nye - April 12, Iyengar III

I went looking for something appropriate for the first night of Ramadan. I found this piece about Mohammed, but not the one you think. Instead I found a funny kinship, with this wonderful Palestinian American from Texas. Do you have relatives you know any love but have never really met in real life? “Not in the least bit nuts”!

For Mohammed on the Mountain

Uncle Mohammed, you mystery, you distant faceless face,

lately you travel across the ocean and tap me on my shoulder

and say "See?" And I think I know what you are talking about,

though we have never talked, though you have never traveled anywhere

in twenty-five years, or at least, anywhere anyone knows about.

Since my childhood, you were the one I cared for,

you of all the uncles, the elder brother of the family.

I’d pump my father—"But why did he go to the mountain?

What happened to him?" and my father, in his usual quiet way,

would shrug and say—"Who knows?"

All I knew was you packed up, you moved to the mountain,

you would not come down.

This fascinated me: How does he get food? Who does he talk to?

What does he do all day?

In grade school my friends had uncles who rode motorcycles,

who cooked steaks outdoors or paid for movies.

I preferred you, in all your silence.

In my mind you were like a god, living close to clouds,

fearless and strong, with no one to sing you to sleep.

And I wanted to know you, to touch hands, to have you look at me

and recognize your blood, a small offspring

who did not find you in the least bit

nuts.