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!
Tag: Thoughts
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.
Beneath a Sunlit Moon
Let me tell you
About the moon,
As it watches
Over us
Tonight…
What whispers
Will we find
In the warm winds
Of summer?
Let us be
Overwhelmed
By the westward clouds,
And feel how
Life presses upon us.
a walk
In the alleys of solitude,
Wondering selves
Exchange wine.
And in a gust
Of autumn leaves,
I hoped to find
Your eyes
Among
The evening lights.
Like the smoke that slips
Through a window
Of an aged apartment,
Let me be
The afterthought
Of a marooned soul.
passing thoughts
Yet I find you
as dangling dew,
splitting the sun,
endlessly,
in my eyes.
It is your hand
i want to hold
through the garden
of nightmares,
and through
the ruins of day.
…your footsteps,
falling,
breathlessly,
are a melody
to my soul,
burning me,
with life.
“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.
Untitled
Find me in a courtyard
Of past thoughts and faiths,
Where humanity remembers
The times she was free.
How is it to know joy,
Without her sister,mortality?
What do we do,
When our eyes say everything?
ahorsealone 
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