Free Verse # 452 (the road to the world)

Sensibilisé par la poésie l’être aime profondément, avec passion et en totalité.

~

I do not write
I only feel my heart quiver
as I touch your face

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In my mother’s hands
there’s always a seed
growing roots and leaves;
my mother’s hands are always green.

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I woke up today
to find myself aging,
and you still
a voice echoing
in the distance,
somewhere far away.

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Poetry is the heir of the mystical essence of religion.

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The road to the world has always seemed to me to lead through a deep wood.

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The poem gives me eyes to look at the world beyond my own death.

~

ضاعت بنا السبل
فانتهينا عاشقين
كلٌّ في بلد
 نكتبُ الشعرَ ليلاً
ونحنُ ننظرُ إلى النجوم
علّنا نجدُ فيها شيئاً
من بريقِ الأملِ

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