We will walk
Where the sun drips like honey,
Just past,
The horizon.
How, in only our eyes
I see the birth
Of every moment.
What do we say
When we look away?
Will we yet be
As the dust in summer?
Childish,
In the roots,
Of an olive tree.
Tag: Birth
Palestine’s Child
I heard a song as faint as
The tide’s prayer,
’twas the voice of mountains
Where my soul was born.
“It is where my child waits,
Drinking the aniseed tears
Of Ishtar’s womb,
I want him to wait more.”
Buried within her eyes
Was the same ode to the gone…
So I learn in my reflections
That break, abandoned, by her shore.
