Poem a Day 23: One Day

The first time I made baklava,
honey and walnuts strewn between
thin layers of phyllo,
I remembered that stay in Istanbul, 
the stars shimmering as we walked

along narrow, cobblestone streets,
back to our hotel, our hearts

full of what we had seen at Topkapi Palace,

connecting rooms and gardens

where sultans and harems 

were once a way of life;

the shop where an eager salesman

held up carpets made entirely of silk

that shimmered in the morning light,

all for us to admire, perhaps to buy;

the tea seller, strolling through the gardens

across from Hagia Sophia,  

who carried hot tea all ready to serve,

with near a hundred little clear glasses 

hung with cords around his body;
and Chora Church, now an Ottoman Empire Mosque,
its walls glazed with intricate tiles,

where Muslim men wore brown felt turbans, 

their long white skirts swirling out with each turn, 

their dancing, a prayer. 

I pull out a quilt book and wonder again

if I will ever make a quilt to honor

those Iznik tiles, every shade of blue

and coral red, with shapes to capture  

those once unique Turkish flowers:

tulips, carnations, roses, peonies, and violets.

Where is that royal bird, the peacock,

whose cry resembles a shriek,

yet who turns and flashes its feathers and turns again?

Somehow all is entwined in the history of this place,

once the center of the world between East and West,

once Constantinople, now Istanbul, 

hundreds of years have passed and will pass. 

I study anew these patterns

and know I will make such a quilt, one day.

Whirling Dervish, Chora, Istanbul (2004)

Hagia Sophia, Istanbul (2004)

Construction begun 360 A.D. Completed 537 A.D.