Soul is such a host,
It uncouthly dips its toes,
Into every mirage it encounters,
Such is the irony of my feet!
Into waters so uncertain;
So deep and banks so narrow,
I find myself drowning,
Into needles of clock, each time!
And whenever I do, I sink,
Sunk into the whirlpools of time and nature,
At the rocky shores of time,
And of nature so undiscovered!
What an interesting encounter,
I hardly relate, each time it arises,
A rise so fated yet untouched,
A rise so desired yet unbridled!
Grains of sand seem more fortuitous now,
For they know, where they belong,
They know why they were thrust,
In & out of the flamboyant desert storm!
For they know, the true nature,
The nature of rise and fall,
But I, a ship so beguiled,
Never learned about the true nature,
Neither from sands nor from the seas!
Mirages abound and I still float,
For what use is a diamond,
If it cannot cut its own blood,
And cease bleeding vulnerability!
Time, you bake bread in kiln,
Bricks in furnace,
And then, cremate in chambers.
Either your fire's too holy or mine less sophisticated;
To see no difference,
Between the ashes, you create!
YOU ARE READING
Dreamers of Cairo
PoetryAn anthology of poems addressing experiences in Cairo, a region engulfed between modernism, state emergency, and world's largest refugees crisis. The book portrays how these themes blend into the daily life of a feminist.
