I leave empty spaces of crowded stillness
In hopes that past promises can sew themselves
into the embroidered stitches
of your wise words
And you speak to me, unbound
A heavy heart in your hand
And I carry it, quietly, searching for its rhythm

Greenlights takeover the afterglow of the sun,
Raindrops paint cities on our windowpane,
We run onto the street with our bare feet
Hand in hand, holding onto a parachute made of dreams.

At the break of dawn, letters sit by your bedside
narrating moon sonnets,
Remnants of satsuma and rose, colour in childhood streets
and you find ways to bottle nostalgia into a fragrance,
and with it, blooms melancholy.

Under the sea of stars
Lay remnants of departed days
From a past up in flames
And smoke transforms
Into clouds that armour your darkest nights

I sit here listening,
to words, you have yet to speak
knowing that for you,
I would lose everything to the sea

fireflies glow, with memories
sewn into my bones
remembering the way we spoke
to the wind  

promises fade; lost in translation

Underneath fractured rainfall
a shadow remains of the person you used to be
Your thoughts fly among the doves
having escaped steel cages of clouded silence
and comes gentle rain,
washing away the unforgiving cold

As your dreams pour out of your voice

How does your desire to heal foreign wounds
translate into open skies
of flaming reds and solemn blues
ready to soak up all the rain
that drizzles on the frontlines
you’ve carved along the horizon
of pain still unspoken for

and you do everything to make it yours

Moon sailor, you watch pensively,
Hoping to catch sight of the evening moon
Lost at sea, your heart searches
for a lighthouse to guide you back home,
But clouds wash out your bones
As you make your abode in the sky....

....Dreaming

You look down at the cracks in your hand
brushing them through hairs of silver moonlight
in your eyes, time has made its abode
and your gentle speech now informed
by a thousand spoken words

yet your smile is an emblem
of your eternal youth

You anxiously anticipate evening restlessness
feeling the pain of resilience deep in your bones
but dying fires from the sunset sky cool your eyes
and a horizon line is sewn into your heart
where blazing sunset colours go to rest
after evening blues wash the sky
and leave behind droplets of stars
you fall asleep - dreaming of hope

Rose tears cover the sky
a blanket of snow rests on the surface
and the sun hides behind blushing clouds
morning comes waving letters
written by golden moments
infused with memories of the past
and comes hope,

disguised as an uncertain future

Oh sunflower soul,  
You chase the daylight
Looking for hope in bright blues.

You tremble with the thought of a dark night,
But the stars have come out
amidst the navy blues.

A crescent moon becomes the silver lining,  
And a trail of streetlights twinkle like surface stars lighting your path as you walk toward

dreams you’ve been waiting to meet

The birds speak of a kindred soul
One that basks in the afterglow
of a solemn moon lingering in the daylight

and you watch as nights go on
the way it changes phases
falling in love with the idea
of embracing the volatility of life

Dancing on the edge of the horizon
A sea breeze looks for love
You watch pensively,
A paintbrush in your hand
Your feet soaking in painted waters
And you,
Encapsulated by the freedom of the wind,
That you have only seen in your dreams,

you fall in love with life all over again

The words once spoken,
scattered beyond Mediterranean shorelines,
I can feel them like whispers of the wind  
As the sun, the wind, and all the birds carry
Spoken promises in dire need of healing,
And despite my racing thoughts
paralleled to my feet,
telling me to face the other direction,
I still held out my shaking hands,
To put you back together again,
even when my fingers were bleeding

In wakefulness,
Your heartbeat stutters in its attempts to make peace with the impulsive evening rain.
But when you soak in the fog and embrace the coolness of winter's breath,
you will find that it will quietly sew itself into the scars that line your heart, and illuminate through your wounds in the shape of a dying ember, radiating warmth.

Beautiful sea breeze
How quickly you become a storm
You’re built of resilience
You bring with you an entourage
Of silver lining and moon tides
Sailor’s boats and lighthouse guides

Yet you still shy away from burning bridges
That monsters love to cross

You’ve befriended discomfort,
Left behind your childhood streets,
only to walk down dark foreign ones.
You kiss away your mother tongue,
Surrendering to an unfamiliar one.

                      ...............

Your battles are carved into my blood vessels
and I will carry them with me
as reminders of patience and faith

You in your full bloom, at peace,
like swirling honey in warm milk,
made of rich pigment and velvet petals.

take a breath, and paint a picture,
of the transient atmosphere,
and you swaying with the ocean breeze.

send it to that part of you
that is lost in endless worry.

In the fabric of time exists
moonlit seas of happenstance
and rose-scented memories
sewed in with golden beads
but it seems to me that life has found a way,
to sew in worn-out frayed threads,
that have lost their silky reflection

yet you,
with your resilient skin
found a way to make
embroidered mosaics of colour
out of the dissonance between good and bad

Shades of burnt orange and saffron
in clusters between the clouds,
the coolness of the atmosphere
brought ease to my swollen eyes
the bitterness on my tongue washed away
as if caramel was poured into the sky,
sweetness inhabited my lungs
and I uttered...

سُبْحَانَ الله

She glides past vendors of fried food as her bare feet skid across the muddy gravel. The pain of the gliding thread left behind with her shoes. A toothy grin and a joyous laugh switch phases like a sound wave as her eyes follow the kite carrying all her dreams.

Two withering souls
Lost in downtown fog
With their stories written in neon lights
And their destinies tied together
Gazing at each other
Through the reflection
Of blazing streetlights
In hidden puddles
Scattered around vacant parking lots
Dancing like ghosts
With honey on their tongues
A million longing words
Without ever uttering one
A sleeping city tells their tale
Of a longing moon and a loving sun

Your heartbeat is caught in a thunderstorm,
You run with a broken umbrella away from winds
That chase you with the hopes to carry you home,
And every time lightening strikes, you realize,
the darkness is only a disguise


The light is closer than it seems

A savoury taste lingers on the sailor’s tongue,
As he reaches out into the angry waves
To pull the moonlight from it’s rays
And winds its threads around a spool
Through the night he stays awake
Rapidly sewing together his dreams
He finds himself searching for a lighthouse built from his insecurities

But a fluorescent light dances above,
Far beyond a silver lining,
Left behind by a frozen voice
Of a past self lost in the eye of a hurricane.

“How do you feel?” I ask again. I, knowing the answer, poke my head into the lion's den. I feel the ghost of your frustrations floating about in the confined space. It haunts the room as our shadows strangle each other.

“What is the opposite of homesick?“ You ask.

“Homesick, ” I answer.

In your palms, a lingering remnant of moonlight
traces your fingerprints,
And it illuminates shards of evening rain that have landed on your skin as droplets of hope.
Together a nebula is painted on your hands,

And you find tranquility in evening wakefulness.

Dear capricious heart,
I’m sorry for leaving you at the door step of my past self.
I know you’re built with wings that can’t take you to the sky,
But I was made of broken bones, my identity split between a continental divide,
And I was yearning for the moment that I’d come to terms with ambiguity.

Now I feel at ease,
knowing you’ve found comfort in the changing of the seasons,

And I have conquered the impossible task of hearing you beat without apprehension

A cloud rests on the surface of the earth
and my heart, like a paperweight,  
tethers me to the stormy waters.  
I can’t foresee where I’m heading.  
But there’s something in the heavy air
compelling my lungs conform to the feeling
of letting go

I found that the cracks in my skin began to heal whenever the moonlight lingered by my window,
during the nights when I let the wind bring in its cooling remedies.

I would sit still, lost in my head,  
With a storm brewing in my swollen heart,
Ruminating as I opened my eyes,  
And I watched the dainty fabric of my curtains as they danced with the cold breeze.
Slowly sunlight leaked into the sky as birds sang their delicate songs,

And I found my restlessness fast asleep on my palms.
For a moment, time was standing still and I was...

healing.

I lay here searching for wakefulness
hours after sunrise.
Outside, remnants of a soft pink rest
among new-born grey clouds,  
And embers of a morning sun fade away.

I admire the transitioning sky, remembering how this life is a mystifying blur made of hellos and goodbyes.

Although moments are fleeting,
so are worries,
Even summer’s goodbye,
Is a mosaic of pigments
That one can not help but stare
In absolute admiration

Good things end,
and better things begin.

You wish for the good hours
When the sun wasn’t so eager to run away
But they’ll come again
When the daylight breaks through dawn

And you are granted another day

In a moment of serendipitous sweetness
You grimace bitterly,
you do not like walking down paths
covered in roses.
You would rather wallow alone,
Coughing up reasons
to be angry at this shallow world,

But it follows you buzzing
even when you’ve muted your colours.

I drank a whole glass of nostalgia,
Took a flight around time,
And found myself sitting where I started,
In a state of unnerving silence,
Thinking about how the thunder
Stored in my swollen heart roars,
whenever I’m somewhere,
Lost in my memories.

Amidst the September blues,
And cold aching wind
That lingers around your bones,
A hopefulness lives
Bright in your eyes,

Reminding you of the dreams you will meet, when you begin to feel alive.

You think about how time is running past you,
And you wonder if you could ever catch up to it,
But it stands there with a hand on your shoulder.

If only you knew, what you could do.

Threads of light from a waking sun,
Illuminate the dreams,
That rest on your eyelids.
And you carry them with you,

wherever you go.

From the moon,
comes a letter of reconciliation,
an apology carried with the tide.
Written in an ink infused with hope,

to be read on those restless nights.

Kites fly
when the wind carrying your words
Touches them,
And with them they take the dreams
that align
the stars in your eyes.


Whenever you speak of the things,
you wish to do

You taught me how to grow.
Your battles are carved into my blood vessels,
And I will carry them with me,

As reminders of patience and faith.

Like milk, your soul
pours into the hearts around you,
and your memory leaves remnants
of honey on their tongues.  

Yet you do not know.

In endearing silence,
Exists the stillness of black and white,
The painter holds the palette against their chest,
And their heartbeat colours in the pigments,
As their brush strokes the canvas,
Droplets of light begin to surround you,
Like floating fireflies, or stars on earth,
And in your eyes, colour blooms,
You sit, framed, in black and white,
But the smile you wear when you stare at wonder,
Brings your colours back to life,
The painter captures a portrait,
Made from the paper of destiny,
A picture of you finding yourself,
As the silence waves goodbye,
Leaving behind echoes of your hopeful laugh.

Your words rival the rain that washes the dust of yesterday off the streets,
They pull flocks of birds towards your speech,
And like maps of the largest cities
I dwell on them for days hoping to uncover every corner,
Even the petals of blooming flowers
Fly away prematurely to follow the words that rest on your tongue,
Because when you speak you pierce the atmosphere
With paper planes folded by your wisdom.
Your words are pungent, like mosaics of foreign colour,
They rest upon the palette of a dreamy painter,
Wistful in colour, even when you haven’t spoken at all.

Your sadness is a beautiful thing
It follows you with the glow of a million fireflies
Compelling the wind to abandon the trees
To carry my hands toward your own
And it pulls the sea away from its shore
To follow the ray of light
That seeps through your wounds

Your heart rests in the palm of your father's sacrifice.
Your breath rests in the nostalgic wind that passes by him
When he remembers his past and reflects on your future.
Your colours run down the lines of your mother's smile,
Whenever she raises her hands to the sky,
Praying for you and a little more time,
Because she left her beating heart back home,
To become foreign and unknown only so you could grow.

Their complexions are painted with fatigue,
Because when you're sound asleep,
they run toward bordered walls,
so that when you wake up in the morning,
There will be open doors at your feet.

When a nostalgic wind passes by them,
They'll tell you stories of their childhood,
And they'll leave each word,
With a taste of reminiscence,
A hint of stolen years reflected in the teardrops,
That rest in the corner of their eyes,
And yet when they look towards you,
In seconds your reflection overshadows everything they once used to dream.

All for you...

Beyond the rolling hills,
A shy horizon awaits coloured in a savoury Himalayan pink
And you stand on the peak of a mountain
Practicing your introduction for when you meet destiny for the first time
The hairs on the back of your neck rise
Whenever you find yourself thinking about time
And memories fly around you, drawing their reflections into the irises of your eyes
Hand in hand with tomorrow you walk towards a new sky
A single cloud hovers over you, bringing with it a rainfall
To nurture the seeds of dreams you have yet to meet
And soon enough you’re gone as you fade into the haze,
running towards a melancholic cry with the future by your side
To meet destiny at the horizon line

I've seen foreign stones bleed out fountains of wanderlust down your waterfalls
I've seen shards of mirrors swimming in the ripples of your sea
The one's that still hold the reflection belonging to the wandering passerby on your streets
I've watched as droplets of ink from a sunset sky pour onto your maps
Colouring in the roads that lead to your history
I've seen the flowers in your gardens spread their fragrance onto the sleeves of those lost in your alleys
And the soil underneath them surrounds the seeds of friendship that they leave behind
I've seen hope in the layers of your canyon rock
And resilience in the avalanches of snow that tumble down your mountains
I've seen the architecture of your emotions towering over my outstretched hand

And now I sit by the water trying to paint a picture of your roads on its surface
My hand reaches out into the distance, waiting for the light of your moon to embrace it
And I watch as the stars paint constellations that remind me of you
I dwell in the lonesome nostalgia, recollecting every fading memory
Hoping that when the sun glitters on the surface of your water
You'll see me sitting there, painting a picture of you

I often find myself seeking validation from words that were never written for my tongue

Caging myself behind walls made of letters still undefined

pacing the corners of my fears wondering what is being said in another’s mind

I run from the words that define my faults, disowning them and leaving them behind

But I still carve them into the crevices of my skin, to remind myself of everything that I’ll never be

Then, I write a stranger's name beside them so that I can blame someone else for my insecurities.

There is a breeze that floats around you
When you stare longingly at opportunity’s shoes
They’re polished and ablaze with the colours of potential
And your soles are aching as they breathe through rugged leather
I know your feet can’t brave walking down the rocky path of regret
But around you, there is an enchanting glow
That pulls the wind as it lays down carpets of soil beneath your feet
And as you hang your head low,
Imagining the door that those glittering shoes would’ve taken you to
Courage follows you like a distant shadow
Your silent companion in pain
Waiting to embrace you with its resilient air
And as you long for reaching opportunity’s door
Courage prepares its wings to carry you to a million more.