She sings and springs
A new years plumage,
Blushing trees
And
Bluebonnet fields.
Gentlemen linger
Crowding branches,
Thinly shaking,
And
Colder still.
A moment of peace
Steals the air,
With a step
Halfway
There.
Tag: Peace
As your eyes say
Love trembles when your eyes bloom,
“Find me where nothing finds room.”
So love is lost and confused,
For that which is chosen cannot choose.
no, my child
I say my child “Where is this life,
What have you brimming in your eyes?”
Quiet, quiet my little flame
Liberty does not feed fires.
Sky
Amongst the heavens,
Space between my emotions,
Passes just slower.
16
I told her “My dream awaits
Beyond the olive groves,
It hides in the warmth
Of a figs sugary folds.”
I told her “My childhood,
Nestled in your jasmine vines,
Swings in whispering scents
That powder your neck in thyme.”
I told her “My heart lives
In Palestine’s street,
In your life visit again
So I can feel my heart beat.”
Seven Days
When you were the sea of my eye,
My self fell upon wings so shy.
When was laughter last so light,
That I had felt forgotten flight.
Our Mother
You have passed our land
In unending pilgrimage,
Yet you have never shown
Her the same face.
She has thought of Us
When We had not of her
As a widow that sings
To her unborn child.
And her restless faith is,
Though parfum of the heart,
Rising after rains that tell
Her you are the same stranger.
Our Inheritance
Our inheritance, an emptiness
In our hands that thinks her sweet oil
Squeezed by a seasons forthcomingness.
The seasons themselves… the thought that all
Of them are her leaves will leave us better
Fools, squeezing in drier fields till naked
We could see her. And, then, do we take her?
Do we try again, as unintended?
Oh that the ground, laden with leaves after
our stay, can breath prayer over laughter!
A Boy at his Well
A boy would sing into the depths
of a well aside his home,
filling it with his many breaths
And many words of song.
Rain, after years, fell to earth’s
bosom to wash her wounds,
and the water in the well
rose to the brim for our son.
The many words that fell
when the boy was then young
were now freed and spread to tell
what peace had lived so long.
ahorsealone 
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