To You

Sometimes in the journey of searching for ourselves, we get lost – even more. Emotions are a very hard-to-understand and hard-to-explain state of heart and mind. We go around remembering the past and how everything used to be like, and seeking a future we have no idea how it will be. Sometimes we just want to sit back and forget that time moves and forget that time is getting somewhere, forget that we are moving forward. Those memories that keep us imprisoned in what was once and keep us on the verge of never embracing our new selves. We see those we once had as friends and we see how life drags them away and we are always – always left behind alone. And we meet new people and we make new relations. And again, time; they move along – always left behind alone.

On the ride of self-discovery we meet certain people who make it feel like our last left-behind was our real last. We touch something in the air that makes us feel like we belong, like life has a meaning. Have you ever been to the sea? Of course you have. Have you ever listened to people’s whispers and stories that are passed from a wave to another. The secrets! The breaths and the wounds. The sea is not just a big pond of water; it represents stories and poems that will never be forgotten to the sand, nor to the waves.

I am not a sea; I am not a breeze; I am not a wave. I may be a secret, a breath, a whisper. I leave thinking that I will not be remembered. That I will not be worthy of the talk of the waves. However, as we look for ourselves, we find others. Others who have been to the sea and have been a secret, a breath, a whisper. The stars at night share our stories, narrate what they see to each other. They try to live on the hope of those stories realizing how significant they are. And they sleep in the morning – the stars sleep in the morning – and so do the stories.

Finding a soul that hovers within the boundaries of a body freely and warmly is a rare thing. Keeping that soul is a rarer thing. And on the ride of self-discovery, we find the one soul that could keep us in place – and we find ourselves left behind (not alone) – with memories. Sweet memories that are screaming for a replay. A reunion. 

A soul and another hovering within the boundaries of two bodies freely and warmly sharing lonesome – and Love. 


مسافة نفسٍ

البعد شر البعد بعد الحياة عن الموت

بيني وبينك شعرة وحجاب أشد

ظننت أنّ قصر الحياة سيغنيني عن اللقيا

.حتى وجدت الحياة قد طالت وطال بها الشوق

ما بال النفس يفصل بيننا؟

.والنفس قصير وطوله طال الزمان موعدا

هذه جنة بيني وبينها مسيرة

وهذه نار أخاف لو مسني ريحها

وأجلس في زاوية الشوق

 أنادي: يا ربّ، يا ربّ القلب قد حنا

.وليس باليد ما يشغلها

شوقٌ كالشوكِ بل أشد وطأة

وروحٌ يتذبذب بها السعي

تارة تسير سير الغزاة  يومَ ميسرة

ِوتارة تهرب في جزعٍ من المسير

وأنا أسيرُ هذا الزمانِ وهذا المكان واللقيا

وقلبي تخسفُ الأرض به والسما

وأقع على أرضٍ تُنادي: يا ربّ

لي ثمرةٌ قتلتها الريحُ

أفلا عجّلت اللقاء بيننا

،فتكون بين ثنايي وفي أحضاني ها هنا

فأردد قولها في نفسي خائفة: يا ربّ

 لي روحٌ كنت قد قبضتها

أفلا عجّلت بيننا اللقيا

فأكون بين ذراعيه أبدا

.ويحتويني في جوفه والفؤاد سرمدا