My blood covers
The fruits of our land,
Indulging the tasteless
Sugar that is sand.
Come into
My hallowed frame,
Carve yourself
In my dried name.
Patience is blind
Before crimson stain,
A drought agnostic
To the notion of kin.
Tag: life
A winter ago…
A breath of life
Nudged the Barents,
As a mother would
Her child.
So I was lifted,
Gently,
Waiting for the sun,
As the sky swelled
With a foreign light.
I thought of you
Where I would
Think of myself…
The sound of light
Was enough,
As winter
Traced her nails
Across my face,
Burning whispers
Layed gently
Upon my skin,
To remind me
This
Was
The taste
Of you.
Heretic Persuasion
I do not have time,
For the persuasions
Of heresy!
You have prayed
In the labyrinth
Of my temple.
You have bathed
In the heavenly waters
That shower my garden.
You came to me mute
And I gifted you
With the language of my heart!
Daydream
We are
Consumed by the wind,
As the autumn leaves
That leap from the hillsides.
So we write,
With our darkest ink,
Passages in the sky…
Letting our afterthoughts
Mingle in the gardens
Of heaven
Like careless birds
In early spring.
…testing the emptiness
Of existence,
We listen through the silence
For Grace.
And she says,
“Wake up…”
With the tap of morning dew
Upon my ear.
All that has left
All that has left
So silently,
Wanders among weeds,
Savors sweat as wine
And carnal company…
What of the eastern sun
Which never sets?
What of the whispered tongue
Upon a lovers lips?
All that has left,
Parted with the wind,
And the warmth beneath
The dearest wing.
Sing…
Sing…
Sing…
What of the eastern sun
Which never sets?
What of the whispered tongue
Upon a lovers lips?
I know love
Lets no wicked rest.
And I know grace
Weighs heavy
Upon my chest.
“Why are you so quiet?”
Let us not be
in a crowd.
How can their eyes
betray you?
Come for a walk,
I want to feel
how Nature grovels
before you.
cantering light
My love for you
Is a ray of light,
Cantering through
Warm passages
Of a forgotten woodland,
Grazing upon a sweetness
That is
A whispering world.
There it will be
Yet after the death of wind,
After all has withered,
After Heaven,
Welcomes home,
Her children.
جدتي
If I can just find
That pocket in your eyes
Where I can rest.
Oh memory,
How beautiful is the smile
Of time’s innocence?
Oh to hold that hand
That nurtured generations…
How does one return
The miracle of life?
When a prayer is burning
With the fires of memory,
My soul is lost
On the milky banks
Of afterlife’s river.
My hands are searching in the virgin mountain
Of our being.
Yet I breath,
A wind that has
Already forgotten,
And yet I breath
In a world that
Will not remember.
Falasteen
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.
thoughts…
I could not speak,
So I dipped my soul in ink.
I could not feel,
So I hunted throughout
The land of music.
I could not see,
So I prayed
Within the deepest temples
Of Gods gardens.
Like so I listened
To my rose,
From a thousand miles away.
ahorsealone 
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