Tag: Poems

The Adult and Child

ahorsealone
Your inner child speaks to me
From a time we’ll never know,
From a far away moment
Let from a God’s stolen bow.
“…Collapse with me
Beyond films of certainty.
There is nothing to forget,
Oh the moments not yet met!”
—
“Let us go where we haven’t been,
Somewhere not alone.
And far is a lovely place.

…a place between far and home.”

To my sister

ahorsealone

You are a temple for lost souls,

Who seek not scripture but rest.

For your doors are never closed

And spring runs childishly about.

 

And when the harsh winds of winter

Come bellowing from the North,

They are tempered in their shame,

Settling in their youth, beneath your eyes.

 

Life will not find your secret,

As she is blind to her self.

Though time will remember your refuge,

And forever find you, his rest.

 

A Mourning Harvest

ahorsealone

Have  I found my self in a child’s breath,
Lost amongst the olives branches and figs,
Or in the language of  blossoms themselves
Mourning in her basket at dawn?

“Take me back, take me back” I call to her,
“I still do not know from where I came.”

The illusion of our choice is called away
In the broken road to the market;
Cobbled musings, dreams of an old mans coffee,
Sown by the roadside seamstresses of our past.

“Who are they, do they not see you?”
Her basket sways innocently forgotten.

And in the shouts of Ramallah’s market,
The mourning of the day is cultivated.
I am left to a stranger by her hands,
An in those hands I remember being taken away.

the blind man and the rain

ahorsealone

As the rain returns
To its dark earthly slumber,
The blind man,
Feels the sun upon his eyes,
And a stirring is born
In the clouds.
When your cinnamon kiss
Rests upon the newborn wind,
The earth chases it,
Leaving mountains in its struggle.
He hears the rivers fall,
And baths in the thoughtless lakes.
It rains, when the winds of love
Forget your kiss,
And when everything
Is eager to remember you again.