This November I want to be a wild field feeling into my bones the surge of autumn, surrendering and letting it all fall down into the ground to be cradled in darkness, to know the meaning of long rest and unperturbed sleep.
This November I want to go deep down into my roots to be acquainted again with the nature of my being, the stranger’s face, which is my face, the face that I once loved and must learn to love again.
This November I will let the summer wine brew deep in my veins with the warmth of its sun, I will let my dreams carry me over to the other plain where spring arrives with new wildflowers and fruits and a renewed thirst for life taking me to the edge of all that I am.
From a distance I watch the crows land on the top of the trees, the sky, behind them, taking on a clear blue light as morning rises full of softness and dew, over the sea a bank of autumn clouds is moving bringing with it a long held promise, my soul, watching, fills with stillness, and a prayer begins again in the silence of my heart.
It is her fragrance that sets the garden into motion, she walks in and everything is alive with light and love.
Unrecognized, our desires come to haunt us in the night.
Night does not exist in the city except as an anomaly.
This poetry a trail of leaves that I follow deep into the forests of my childhood, into the deserts and high mountains of my longing, reminding me of who I am and who I want to be.
Wrapped up in his arms she unwinds her day, her breath and thoughts slowing down, his embrace filling her with safety and warmth, as the world outside fades and a single star shines from the quietness of their belonging.
الحب هو وليد اللحظة، أما الصداقة فتبنى.
Love is the child of the moment, but friendship is built through time.
As I sip my morning tea, the autumn sun outside, like a warm, tender wave falls over the trees in the garden. Beside me, on the desk, a book calls to be read, as though it were the tender eyes of a woman I love, inviting me to delve into them. My heart is filled with a strange stillness and calm as leaves falls all around.
Autumn morning… in all beginnings is sown the seed of their end