To Khidr

O Khidr!
My tricky friend
  and true,
my green Satan,
my soul-destroyer…

You’ve pounded my heart
into a tasty morsel,
thrust me onto a skewer,
and roasted me like kabob.

I never knew I could be so delicious.

The friends of God do not understand
  my love for you.
They think me mad, of no account;
they imagine my joy is from
  lack of understanding.

I tell your tales and do my part,
but even if they hear me
they don’t listen.

As for me, I choose that
  wild and reckless dance!
headlong into the fire.

Turn me over the coals –
  again, and yet again –
that I may wear this
  blackened char of self
  as my crown of glory.