When you speak I hear a song
That is ointment to my soul.
What will happen
If I hear you pray?
Tag: Poem
Each Other’s
It knocked on the door of my solitude
And shacked the frame of its temple.
Id always thought I would rejoice
But oh to be someone so simple!
I never learned the loneliness
Of two that met each other.
Of how languages and eyes
Could never meet each other’s.
My City
I want to paint a city
with letters and words…
Lift it up
with .’s and !’s
Slip away with me
Between the words
Into an alley
Of memory
Where the soul paints
On crumbling cinder
with ideas and where
We find a silence different
From that of .’s and !’s
For what is left…
You will never be blinded, for you see through the eyes of my faith.
You will never feel lost, for you walk through the gardens of my wonder.
You will never know cold, for you wear the garments of my soul.
You will never meet thirst, for you have the pools within my eyes.
You will never lose breath, for you are carried in the winds of my spirit.
You will never speak with pain, for you live within the temple of my prayer.
You will never aqcuaint hunger, for you dine on the essence of my dreams.
And you will never be alone… if you can settle for what is left.
After a prayer for my love
I saw two birds perched on a tree’s thin branches,
Swaying, gently, in the winds enchantments.
It was after a prayer for my love…
Again, after a prayer for my love.
I saw two shadows wavering about
And then, one…and of only one I thought.
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.
Steps to See Palestine
Our earth awakes to a call.
From within itself a voice
Speaks lightly the amber truth.
She pulls across her body
The sunlight shawl of morning,
Across amber fields of wheat
She lifts the dew of dreams.
Two golden seas mix, this instance,
And truths blend,indifferent;
For what is taken… is lifted.
Let the leaves of the olive tree,
Soon heavy with dreamlessness,
Let me hear this silence be
This prayer she listens to.
With the Adhan comes our past,
Wind that makes groves chatter,
And her prayers unheard
ahorsealone 