{"id":8383,"date":"2024-02-16T10:05:01","date_gmt":"2024-02-16T17:05:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/?p=8383"},"modified":"2024-02-16T10:05:01","modified_gmt":"2024-02-16T17:05:01","slug":"ayaz-the-making-of-sand","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/2024\/02\/16\/ayaz-the-making-of-sand\/","title":{"rendered":"Ayaz – The Making of Sand"},"content":{"rendered":"

The Making of Sand
\nby Ayaz<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Empty pages
\nFlap in the wind
\nIn the sovereign silence
\nThere is no history
\nThere is only the cracking
\nAnd polishing of stones
\nby the sun
\nYou see the making of sand
\nIs a long business
\nShaped and re shaped
\nBy surrender<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/a> \u2014 from The Holy Algorithm<\/a>, by Ayaz Angus Landman<\/font><\/p>\n


\/ Image by Kunj Parekh<\/a> \/<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

I should feature the poetry of Ayaz Landman more often. I should just read his poetry more often \u2014 note to self. Every time I read his poetry I am surprised anew by how his words ring in the still moments of the day.<\/p>\n

This poem, for example, it feels to me like a meditative journey\u2026<\/p>\n

Empty pages
\nFlap in the wind<\/i><\/p>\n

We start with an image of a book open, its pages empty and flapping in the wind. A bare sketch, dreamlike. Where are the words that should fill the pages? Why would a book\u2019s pages be empty? Perhaps the book is a blank canvas, a space for creativity, a place of possibilities.<\/p>\n

Where is the writer? Or the reader? Why is the book out in the wind?<\/p>\n

An empty book, an empty space, but with movement, life.<\/p>\n

In the sovereign silence
\nThere is no history<\/i><\/p>\n

These are the words that first grab my attention. That phrase, \u201cthe sovereign silence\u2026\u201d That is one to sit with and savor.<\/p>\n

Within that silence there is no history. No past. No inner dialog. No self-story. There is just presence.<\/p>\n

The empty pages of the book, that must be us. We have become wordless, a part of the silence.<\/p>\n

There is only the cracking
\nAnd polishing of stones
\nby the sun<\/i><\/p>\n

This section is almost alchemical. There is no one there, no history, a place beyond time, but there is a refining process happening. Stones are being polished, refined, by the light of the sun.<\/p>\n

What an interesting, almost startling detail in, that sound of cracking in the midst of the silence. A bit of projection on my part, perhaps, but that line suggests to me the inner sound heard in silent meditation and prayer. It can be a soft sound, like the hum of bees or a distant waterfall\u2026 or sand carried by the wind, or it can be clear and crisp, like a bell or flute\u2026 or perhaps the cracking sound of stones.<\/p>\n

The inner sound is the sound of the self\u2019s refinement. And that process is patient work.<\/p>\n

You see the making of sand
\nIs a long business<\/i><\/p>\n

It is not even that we are doing it. The action is done by the wind, the sun, by the subtle, eternal forces that act upon all things. <\/p>\n

Our job is simply to let that process happen\u2026<\/p>\n

Shaped and re shaped
\nBy surrender<\/I><\/p>\n

\u2026to allow ourselves to be remade by our own surrender.<\/p>\n


\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/a>Recommended Books: Ayaz<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n\n

<\/p>\n

\n\n\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/center>
\n<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
For You: A Collection of Prayer Poems<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nThe Holy Algorithm<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nFor You Too<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
\n\n
\n<\/td>\n\nAyaz<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

England (Contemporary)
\nMuslim \/ Sufi<\/a><\/a>
\n<\/a><\/a><\/em>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cAyaz\u201d is the Sufi name given to Angus Landman.<\/p>\n

More poetry by Ayaz<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Making of Sand by Ayaz Empty pages Flap in the wind In the sovereign silence There is no history There is only the cracking And polishing of stones by the sun You see the making of sand Is a long business Shaped and re shaped By surrender \u2014 from The Holy Algorithm, by Ayaz […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[2070,2069,962,1905,19,762,2154,1292],"class_list":["post-8383","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-angus-landman","tag-ayaz","tag-emptiness","tag-sand","tag-sufi-poetry","tag-sun","tag-surrender","tag-wind"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8383","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8383"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8383\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8384,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8383\/revisions\/8384"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8383"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8383"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8383"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}