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.
Tag: Poetry
At a still dawn
Our earth awakes to a call.
From within itself a voice
Lays truth, an amber spell.
She pulls across her body
The sunlight shawl of morning,
Across amber fields of barley,
The swell of dew filled dreaming .
Two golden seas mix, this instant,
And truths blend,indifferent;
For what is taken… is uplifted.
Let the leaves of the olive tree,
Let a past’s youthful brew.
Let me hear their silence be
A prayer she listens to.
I dont usually ask for input, but I’d love to hear your reactions to this one if you may :).
~Love and Peace
Abid
Come
And come to me truth,
Even as the sweetest sorrow,
That a morning
May be free tomorrow.
A stanza for thought.
That Night Be
But had I many nights serene
When with me in midnight’s walk,
Only that on which I lean
Was my standing thought.
Had I many nights to see,
Surely one would that night be.
Bluebird
A little bluebird came by sound
And why it was I did not know,
But after time, talk, looking around…
I thought I thought it through.
I did not know it, but this house
Was the sort with birds about.
So it goes,that this bird throws
This thinker for a think about.
I’ve been recently interested in writing children’s poetry, so a couple days ago I was unusually in the mood to writing something happy, and this happened.
A Window sort of Frame
One day I sat in a wooden frame
That I found in the attic,
And as I thought all stills the same,
I set out to frame some music.
And what trouble did it seem,
To make this fancy true,
That I didn’t think of a likely thing
And think of a window!
So I took a hammer and the frame
And thought of every sound
That never could be heard in dream,
But could be by a window found!
I dedicate this poem to siti (my grandmother) who spends long hours by a window reading the Quran, or watching us children play. I love her greater than life.
A different joy
Sparrows are bells strung
In the unending celebration
Hidden in the wind.
And the wind recites
A thousand pages,
Of a thousand olive trees.
And the olive trees
Drink the sweat
Of my father.
And he holds me.
In his arms still…
As the arms of Palestine.
-Abid
So I wrote this very briefly and didnt think to revise it. It was a result of happiness and relief I felt so briefly in this valley of our struggling reality. Its free as verse gets, and I really like it, Id like to think of it as an entire moment of confession and submission to the honesty of joy. But you may think what kind of joy is this, this joy is hope. So, I hope you enjoy it 🙂
This is a picture of hope I took on the wall in the West Bank.
Refuge-Day 12’ish
Where can I find the moment
Spared amongst my words,
That can echo through my chest
Never spoken, never heard?
Where can I seek that refuge,
Open as the rays of sun,
That my spirit may bear
What a prayer has done?
Agreed- Day 11
What tree shall spring from these lands
Like the eager waters of the sea
And yield its blossoms, as if hands,
Pleading heaven for its tears.
Shall it yield its branch to Earth
As truth listens to nature’s plead
And in our heart its secrets birth,
Though will we …have agreed?
Story of a Storm- Day 10
A stranger has left my town
Leaving the skies tired and gray,
And pine bristles to softly sound
As the wind chased him away.
He left for us a chill that settled
Hushing all that wake to song,
And an emptiness that meddled
In the human breath for long.
Even so outside I took
A little afterward walk.
Beside the keeping brook
I listened to a little talk.
Where I’m sure I listened to
A story silence covered…
A gentle truth that few knew
In this stream of his lingered.
ahorsealone 
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