Introduction
Damascus is the city which used to give us, with a sorrowful tears in its eyes, love insteed of bread and sweet dreams instead of a sweet reality. Damascus was to us what Peter was to the Christ . The rock we wanted to build our dreams' edifice on . But the sky was overcast and the rascals rule the country. Our old dreams fell apart .. died on the old roads of that city . Our new dreams departed . And their roof this time was other sky where they can grow up . The story i will tell is not just my own . The heart of every Damascene carries the same agony .
○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○
The stony path I know ,
Has never ever changed.
But every time i cross it ,
It whispers in a fatherly tone ,
"How much have you grown !"
The stony path I know ,
Told me once a story.
About a lad was walking,
In a blaze of glory.
In spite of his youngness,
Of fears and worries .
He crossed the path alone
Saying : " on this stone
I will build my glory" [1]
The stony path I Know,
Has met again that lad .
With a young wife beside him,
And a child on his hands .
His eyes had lost shine .
His heart had lost faith,
In everything he learnt,
In mercy and grace .
Behold ! Look at his face !
Can you see the bitterness?!
The stony path I know,
Has had two faithful friends .
They used to rest nearby ,
And after that they wend .
" little Sara , say goodbye !
Our journey is about end .
You love Damascus, I know !
You resemble it somehow ! "
The grandfather said .
The stony path I know,
Had a warm talk with him.
The old man told it,
About his only son .
And how he left the village,
Naive and dreamy .
And how he became,
Despairing and gloomy .
And how he returned,
With a young wife beside him ,
And a child on his hands !.
The stony path I know,
Had a warm talk with her .
The little child told it,
How much She missed her father .
And about her dream,
To live with him together .
Her father is a Summerly dream !
She meets him,
Just in Summer!
The stony path I know,
Knew that the old man died .
Although she still loyal,
Always ..
The grandchild .
She always haunts the path,
Her grandfather loved .
And every time she crosses,
The stony path I know .
It whispers in a fatherly tone ,
"How much have you grown !"
Sara Khateeb (sara saba)
Wed, 2 March 2016
[1] : ((also tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my assembly )) Matthew 16:18
