Friday, August 25, 2017

With all his being (on Imad's Birthday)

He patiently waited for his deliverance
Until his sailboat arrived at 80
He left behind him
Missed ways and silvery clouds
Mother earth and echoes of smiles
Whispers of longing for home

Traces uneasy to recognize
Yet felt throbbing in his songs and hymns
Unpretentious and unforgotten
By the humming bird he wished to be

His desire for verse
Bursted in organic flow
(Seldom empty of passion)
have covered the shadows
of his Dionysian letters
and his eternal love for life

He felt subdued in his loneliness
But hopeful and intoxicated
By the incense of every coming dusk

Out of his words
An event speaks freedom
Anguish and peaceful expectations
A revelation of songs
Remembered on his birthday                

masks are hardly

  The breeze from the rushing train Still brushes my long hair Still gives a moment of surrender   Masks are hardly Breathable Y...