In the crowd,
You heard a voice.
In the flurries,
You felt a scent.
In the distance,
You saw a trail.
Feathers,
Pebbles
And tears;
You followed it.
Up and down,
High and deep.
Fast and slow.
And found a door.
Without any fear,
Without any thought,
Without any cognition,
You knocked.
The door was left ajar….
Was it an old cranky witch?
Was it a green clad mystic?
Was it a pink cheeked girl?
Tell me,
What did you see?
Why is your heart pounding?
Why are your cheeks glistering?
Why are your feet running?
Tell me,
What are you fleeing?
Your own shadow?
Your own thoughts?
Your own burdens?
Or is it her…
That creature you rose from sleep.
That prey you stirred into hiding.
That predator you attracted to hunt.
Tell me,
Do you wake up in the middle of the night?
And fear.
And think.
And ponder.
Oh what did you do…
Oh what will you do…
Oh what can you do…
Is it love?
Is it a dream?
Is it a story?
Something you will never tell.
Something you will never live.
Something you will never try.
Something that will keep you warm
When you lose hope.
When you need strength.
When you are lost.
Something that will keep you strong.
But what of her?
The damsel in distress.
The relentless banshee
The legions of furies.
But what of her?
The gentle lady.
The soft huntress.
The hungry mystic.
But what of her?
As you run with your fear.
As you hide from your fear.
As you cradle your fear.
Will she follow?
Or will she remain enraptured,
in a never ending song.
Or will she remain trapped,
in the scent of a memory.
Or will she remain spellbound
in the maze of your flight.
Think,
Think before you run.
Think,
Think before you hide.
Think,
Think before you forget.
You know,
Don’t you?
She will not forget.
She will not leave.
She will not fade.
She will carve,
She will weave,
She will write,
Your first steps.
Your faltering steps.
Your fading steps.
Halt,
Hush,
Here, here.
Who is she
Who was she
What is she
To you?
Sami Yusuf – A Dancing Heart Music to accompany this poem
Creature of the woods,
Creature of the wilds,
Creature of the winds…
Never of this city.
Blinding lights,
Deafening voices,
Intoxicating fumes.
I crawl back to my
Hovel
Cabin
Tower.
Nestled in the trees.
Aspens.
Oaks.
Maples.
Why must I leave my peace?
Why must I?
You must,
You shall,
You will, my child.
They call,
They always call…
Through the highways,
Through the valleys,
Through the seas,
They wake me up at night.
Child,
You must come.
Child,
You must run.
Child,
You must return.
And I look the other way.
Shivering,
Trembling,
Twitching,
There will be no rest,
Until I answer
This call
This beseech
This summon.
Too young,
Too soon,
Too fragile.
I cannot.
But my heart never rests.
And my face becomes finer.
And my eyes become deeper.
And my hair becomes lighter.
Time cannot ever be hindered.
Am I standing still, am I moving?
Dancing
Twirling
Balancing
Between two world.
Between two direction.
Between two paths.
How high is the tightrope!
How high is the horizon!
How high is the summit!
The river runs in the glen.
The daisies grow in the hollow.
The children play in the dale.
But I belong far away from
Their gushing.
Their dancing.
Their singing.
I wish I could climb down to them.
I wish I could run to them.
I wish I could stay with them.
Find smooth pebbles in the river.
Make luscious flower crowns,
Hold their small hands in mine.
I look at them.
I wave at them.
I call to them.
They never notice me.
There’s an invisible veil between us.
Theres’s an invisible net between us.
There’s an invisible barrier between us.
Like the one that separates
Living from the dead,
Light from the shadows.
Freshwater from saltwater.
Invisible.
Subtle.
Unshakable.
Yet,
We must all flow.
Yet,
We must all fly.
Yet,
We must all feel….
The call beneath our ribs.
The call beneath our heart.
The call beneath our fingertips.
Can you hear it too?
Can you?
Or am I a madwoman…
Frenzied.
Frantic.
Free.
Ever wandering.
Ever solitary,
Ever thirsty,
Scattering behind me
Petals of what could have been,
Hums of what could perhaps be.
Feathers of what could never be.
Unless…
And I look away from the vale,
And I look to my own feet.
And I look up to the sky.
Unless…
Do you ever hear echoes of prayers,
Do you ever hear tatters of laments,
Do you ever hear hopeful hymns,
Up there in the lonely mountains?
Voices of those
Who journey.
Voices of those,
Who leave.
Voices of those,
Who must return.
To the Unknowable.
To the Unseeable.
To the Ungraspable.
To the ever Familiar.
To the ever Compassionate.
To the ever Loving.
And the voices…
Of those who sing in your blood.
Of those who whisper in your dreams.
Of those who are heard in your own words.
To a distant land.
To an ancient time.
To another idiom.
You can almost see it…
The scorching desert.
The freezing summits.
The haunting ruins.
Towers embroidered of
Gold
Turquoise
And blue.
You can feel them under your fingertips.
You can feel them against your palms.
You can feel them against your cheek.
Like a scent that never leaves you…
Musk
Frankincense
And roses.
And the chants,
And the oud
And the sitar.
Like a melody that lulls you
In,
Out,
and In,
Of a sleep carved with dreams.
A maddening labyrinthe
Curls,
Leaps
and fire out.
Burning,
Like a memory.
Burning,
Like a desire.
Burning,
Like a thirst.
Something you cannot have imagined.
Something you cannot translate in words.
Something you cannot explain with reason.
So you lie awake.
Wordlessly,
Hopelessly,
Mindlessly,
Listening.
Even in this peaceful forest,
Even in this gentle country lane,
Even in this blissful night,
Every breeze that breathes,
Every twig that creaks,
Every bird that leaps,
Echo those voices….
Calling you,
Beseeching you,
Summoning you,
To the journey.
Deep rust dew,
Light golden sunbeam,
Soft pitter patter.
Haven’t I told you before?
I am not from this world.
I am not for this world.
I merely exist here.
The bridge I left behind
Fell apart as I stepped on it.
Dissolved as I stepped on it.
Blew away as I stepped on it.
I leaped over the abyss
I flew over the abyss
I rose over over the abyss.
The bridge in front of me
Is already wobbling.
Is already fading.
Is already whining.
I wish you were strong enough to catch me
I wish you were strong enough to hold me.
I wish you were strong enough to follow me.
Through the muddy path,
Over the sharp ridges,
Under the thick mossed earth.
Leaning over that void
Where you once stood.
Leaning over that well,
Where you once spoke.
Leaning over that crevasse
Where you once beckoned me.
I scatter pearls and feathers,
I scatter petals and ashes,
I scatter smoke and tears.
But I already know that it’s in vain.
So I turn around,
I turn left,
and keep on turning left.
Until I find a whiff of
Myrrh
Frankincense
Roses.
and I find the stairwell,
and I find the base camp,
and I find the holy cave.
Where I can truly hear.
Where I can truly speak.
Where I can truly connect.
… And at last be understood.
Dear sparrow,
So gentle,
So constant,
So chatty.
I listen to you.
You listen to me.
Neither is understood.
I see you plunge into the fountain
Flap around your wings.
I see you plunge your beak,
Drink your fill.
How brave,
How endearing,
How beautiful.
But I am no bird…
What am I?
I look deep into that chasm,
I look deep into that smoke,
I look deep into that well,
And try to find an echo of me.
An apple tree,
An apple blossom,
An apple seed.
Nothing more.
A nurturing creature,
A loving heart,
And a promise to keep.
Find my shoots in spring,
Find my flowers in summer,
Find my fruits in autumn,
Find my bare core in the winter.
Ever glowing
Ever growing,
Ever giving.
But never yours.
I belong to the seasons,
I belong to the sunshine,
I belong to the rainfall.
I belong to the thick and rich soil.
I belong to the soft and warm sun.
I belong to the vigorous and living sap.
But foremost…
From my ever growing roots,
Through my solid core,
To my ever growing fruits,
I belong to
The One who created me.
The One who nourished me.
The One who protected me.
and to Whom I will return.
Listen to the bee,
Smell the winter jasmine,
Hold the fallen acorns.
It is not winter yet.
and yet, it will return.
How thin the veils between the worlds are.
How soft the voices calling to each other are.
How persistant the souls drawn to each other are.
Kismet.
Come, come closer…
Perhaps these woods are not haunted.
Perhaps that crone is not evil.
Perhaps that path isn’t thorny.
Come, come closer…
Maybe I am wrong.
Maybe you are right.
Maybe…
Come, come closer…
Perchance, this cabin isn’t an illusion.
Perchance, this roaring fire isn’t a dream.
Perchance, this embrace isn’t a fantasy.
Destiny?
When the leaves fall,
One by one.
When the squirrels gather nuts,
One by one.
When the birds leave,
One by One.
I cannot see clearly.
The mists.
I cannot think clearly,
The bogs.
I cannot understand clearly,
The sunsets.
So short,
So short is a day.
So far,
So far we must go.
Will you follow me?
The rain never stops
The golden leaves become brown mulch
The remaining birds become wailing wraiths.
The trees become shivering strangers.
But in the death of night.
Utter stillness.
Utter silence.
Utter softness.
Is it dawn yet?
I can hear a hopeful bird brightly chirping.
I can smell the earth once more living.
I can hear the branches gently swaying.
The storm has ended.
Outside,
The path is sodden,
The boughs are green.
The sun is bright.
Cold, cold morning.
Are you still here?
The one I roved behind.
The one I drove away.
The one who remained.
Don’t leave,
Not when the fire’s dying embers.
Not when my words are dying embers.
Not when my heart is smothered in dying embers.
Don’t leave yet.
He left when all I did was
To scatter pearls in his hands.
To scatter petals in his hair.
To scatter tears on his heels.
You whom,
I run from every new moon.
I tiptoe to every full moon.
I hold close every waning moon.
Will you?
Will stay for the waxing moon?
I can see it in this army of bare trees.
I can see it reflected in the rainwater.
I can see it behind the veil of the clouds.
A silver glimmer of hope.
The words I draw in the mud
The songs I whisper in the night
The faces I make in the mists
All stem from fear.
Deafening terror.
Pounding horror.
Shivering stupor.
The wind blew yesterday.
Leaving but the bare earth.
Leaving but the bare trees.
Leaving but the bare heart.
The forest loses its mystery after
The wild melancholy
The tormenting sigh
The tempestuous farewell
Of autumn.
All is offered.
Heart,
Soul,
And mind.
No leaves to hide,
No flowers to garnish,
No shelter to shield,
From your gaze.
Only me.
Now you know,
Where to find her den.
Where to find her lair.
Where to find her hideout.
You knock, you knock.
You call, you call.
You ask, you ask.
Too often.
I slam the door shut.
I lock the door shut.
I bolt the door shut.
and I escape from the window.
And I roam.
And I howl.
And I roll.
In magical hills you cannot reach.
In a forsaken land you cannot imagine.
In a hidden world you cannot grasp.
Free, at last.
Free, at will.
Free, for now.
Will you?
Will you be there when I return?
To hear my words.
To heal my world.
To head my words.
Perhaps one day,
You will come to
Smile to me,
Hold me,
Carry me.
To another land
That neither of us know of.
That neither of us dream of.
That neither of us know the way to.
The path is hidden.
For mere mortals,
For mere lonely creatures,
For mere cowardly children.
Only blessed lovers know this way.
Wait.
Breathe.
Not too late,
Not too soon,
Lest I run,
Lest I hide.
Be calm,
Be strong,
Be soft,
Our hearts already know the way.
If this is true.
If this for us
If this is written.
Don’t leave,
Don’t stay.
Don’t.
Let it be.
Let it rain.
Let it trickle.
And look up to that silver glimmer of hope.
You see
You were the spark
You were the scent
You were the silk
In my words.
From an acorn came a tale.
From a tale came a story.
From a story came an oak.
Under its shade,
I found peace.
I found solace
I found another spark,
Can you feel these deep roots?
Can you feel this thick bark?
Can you feel this rich foliage?
It is not you doing.
It is not your gift.
It is not yours.
Those are my words.
Those are my stories.
Those are my songs.
This is my oak tree.
Mine.
After you left,
It was my shelter
It was my home.
It was my ladder.
It led me to other stories
It led me to other discoveries.
It led me back home.
To my Creator.
You were but a breeze
You were but a gust of wind.
You were but a breath.
Long ago,
Long gone.
Gone.
Thank God.
Your roots didn’t go deep enough.
Your arms were not strong enough.
Your heart was not wild enough.
To follow mine
Through the waves
Through the crags
Through the vales.
You didn’t even try.
I must
Face the well.
Face the pond.
Face the mirror
And see what truly is here.
The stars,
The ebb,
Myself.
Alone.
Flesh, blood and alone.
Heart, lungs and alone.
Soul, dreams and alone.
Alone.
Not quite, not quite.
There’s a thrill from that branch,
There’s a flutter from within me,
There’s a breath from far beyond.
I am never truly alone.
The finches on that branch,
The robin in my heart,
The bird of paradise in the horizon,
Simurgh
That calls me through the path
That calls me through the marshes
That call me through the mists
Back home.
Home, where is home?
To the endlessly wandering soul
To the utterly lost wild woman,
To the irresistibly inspired poet
Home is the Source and the Destination,
Home is the ever twisting clearway.
Home is the forest of inspiration.
That glowing window,
That warm alcove,
That gentle aroma.
You will never see it.
and I will never see you again.
Keep the golden blessings,
Keep the copper feelings,
Keep the silver yearnings.
Kindly
Peacefully
Absolutely.
As I retreat back
To my Refuge.
To my Source.
To my Light.
To return to the world,
With a brighter plumage,
With more colors in my feathers,
With a sweeter and deeper song.
In a wild and enchanted forest,
On a solid oak treel,
On a gentle twig,
Far far away from you.
Is it autumn or is it me?
Is it november or is it you?
Is it the storm or is it my soul?
I can’t remember my name.
I can’t remember my destination.
I can’t remember my home.
Grey walls,
Dusty windows,
Dark wooden doors.
Where is the glowing hearth?
Where is the glimmering candle?
Where is the glittering song?
Birds chirp against the wind.
The sparrow and his brothers.
The robin and her brood.
The great tit and his clan.
Some will leave.
Some will stray.
Some will remain.
Up, up on the branches.
Far, far in the horizon.
Deep, deep in the forest.
Leaving me to my shrubs,
Leaving me to my doorstep,
Leaving me to my hearth.
Without a song….
To lull me.
To wake me.
To light me up.
Like the matches the little girl wasted.
My fingers are twisted in pain,
My head is full of decaying leaves.
My legs are heavier than stones
So heavy,
So heavy
I could sink to the bottom of
The pond.
The lake
The ocean.
Will I rise again like the skeleton lady?
Will I rise again like foamy waves?
Will I rise again like a phoenix?
It doesn’t matter if I’m too tangled for love.
It doesn’t mater if I’m a prisoner of this cycle.
It doesn’t mater if I became ashes to come back.
The dull pain,
The weighty loneliness,
The never-ending labyrinth
Nothing matters as long as I have
My wits
My wings
My words.
If I can write a line.
If I can weave a tale.
If I can stitch up another life.
It is all worth it.
Dear,
Don’t wait in the forgotten street.
Don’t wait in the never-ending night.
Don’t wait in the pouring rain.
I am not here.
I never was.
You saw a star in the distance.
You saw a glimmer in the distance.
You saw a shadow in the distance.
And you chased it all the way down here.
Mistaking me for your destiny.
Mistaking me for your last hope.
Mistaking me for the answer to your prayers.
But I am only a woman.
Chasing her own star.
Chasing her own destiny.
Chasing her own hope.
I have nothing to give anymore.
But,
Tatters.
Tears
And tales.
I gather
Dewdrops
Drops of anguish
Droplets of hope.
And I drink deep.
Like the trees after a draught.
Like an athlete after a feat.
Like a child after a long day.
Does it show in my eyes ?
Does it show in my fingertips ?
Doest it show in my stories?
The hope I try to sow.
The hope I try to grow.
The hope I try to flourish
Within me?
Was it this gleam
Was it this melody
Was it this sigh
That brought you here?
Take it,
The petals of inspiration,
The shimmer of creation,
The echoes of my poems,
Take it.
But let my sail
But let my song
But let my soul
Roving and free.
Roaming and free.
Rambling and free.
Free.
There’s a fairy who lives by an airfield.
There’s a witch who lives by a chemical lab.
There’s an elven maiden who lives by the recycling bins.
On that sidewalk, I always find feathers.
On that fence, I always find garlands.
On that curb, I always find silver cups.
Is it an offering?
Is it an appeasement?
Is it an ode?
To something
To someone
To some place
I cannot know about.
The forgotten nuclear facility is a ruined castle.
The forgotten ferris wheel is a ghost train.
The forgotten doll is a spectre of innocence lost.
No wild moorlands here.
No crumbling towers here.
No bewitching urban tales here.
Just the chemicals…
In the breeze we breathe.
In the draught we drink.
In the eels we eat.
Making us choke.
Making us keel.
Making us creak.
Older than we look.
Younger than we feel.
Aging before age.
And yet,
Beyond the gray bricks.
Beyond the sickly sweet air.
Beyond the deafening noise.
There’s a redbreast robin.
There’s the golden scent of autumn.
There’s a cheerful birdsong.
Drawing us close.
Pulling us in.
Covering us.
And the thick fumes,
And the plastic cages,
And the bitter water
Are left behind.
There’s a young girl,
There’s a forgotten woman,
There’s an old lady,
by that gate.
by that shrub.
by that pond.
They say
Her heart is enclosed in metal.
Her eyes are covered with plastic.
Her mouth is laden with gasoline.
Children run from her.
Men scuttle from her.
Only women are drawn to her.
They don’t see what you see.
They see
The bleeding heart,
The weeping eyes,
The hurried gasp,
And hear her lullabies.
And hear her croon.
And hear her hymn.
They see a fairy with torn wings.
They see a witch with missing hands.
They see an elven maiden with a broken heart.
They come to her for healing.
For the world.
For themselves.
For her.
They sit around the fire.
They sit around the roses.
They sit around the brew.
And they whisper secrets.
And they chant prayers.
And they weaves peace.
That echo through the night.
That echo through the factory.
That echo through the city.
And the wisps of fumes fade.
And the poison seeps out of the river.
And the earth is living again.
A swift sunshine
A clear birdsong,
A fresh breath.
The earth is breathing again.
The earthlings are breathing again.
The hearth is heartening again.
And the lady of the woods,
And the fay of the woods
And the crone of the woods,
… is a girl once more.
Full of hopes,
Full of life,
Full of love.
Vines are growing over the white buildings.
Weeds are growing on the cracked asphalt.
Shrubs are growing beyond the fences.
Breathe in,
You can taste mushroomed pathways.
You can smell the rotting foliage and feathers.
You can take in the quickening of the end.
So musky,
So rich,
So real.
Nothing like their chemical corruption.
Nothing like their radioactive seedlings.
Nothing like their engineered vegetation.
All is well, all is right.
Nature claims her right.
Humanity is back on the right path.
Breathe out.
And the girl is free.
And the girl is healed.
And the girl is reborn;
Once more.
Rejuvenated .
Renewed.
Restored.
I can breathe again.
Today I cast a bottle in the sea.
Today I sent a pigeon into the winds.
Today, I dropped a coin in the well.
I didn’t tell anyone,
But the sparrows bracing for winter,
But the squirrels packing for winter,
But the trees baring for the winter.
They didn’t see the sunset on my cheeks,
They didn’t see the rain in my eyes
They didn’t see the spring on my lips.
It’s like singing a lullaby
Against the wind,
Against the world
Against the web.
Like a revolution.
Like a declamation.
Like a declaration.
That nobody will hear.
They all died on the battlefield.
They all deserted years ago.
They all ran like traitors.
The war is over.
Only the wind rumbles.
Only the bees bumble.
Only the lost stumble.
Who are the lost ones?
The lovelorn,
The loverless,
The lovers…
It’s a madness, isn’t it?
But you never notice it when you are
Hand in hand,
Lips to lips,
Heart to heart.
You only open your eyes
When the night is utterly still.
When the morning is utterly bright.
When the end is utterly near.
Or when you shiver alone at a bus stop.
Or when you wander alone at the death of night.
Or when you wake up alone after a realistic dream.
Pure madness.
Quick,
Breath in in the autumn mulch
Breath out the busy city.
Breath in last year’s roses.
Can you make sense of it?
From evening mist to morning dew.
From the warm afternoon to the freezing night.
From the hopeful greeting to the mournful parting;
I wait.
Nothing but
The ripples of the water,
The whispers of the wind,
The echoes of a clinking.
In the distance,
Far off.
So far,
A fading echolalia…
It’s not you,
It’s not real,
It’s just my mind…
So deeply anchored;
So deeply entrapped;
So deeply enchanted:
That no one can distract.
Except songs,
Except stories,
Except stanzas
Of something that doesn’t dare exist.
My hearth is a campfire.
Never here,
Never there,
Always returning.
My love is in absence.
Never here,
Never there,
Always returning.
My home is an embrace,
Never here,
Never there,
Always returning.
Time always trickles,
Friends always trickle,
Dreams always trickle.
Droplets into
Rivulets into
Streams into
A sea of feelings,
An ocean of memories
A universe of faces.
I belong to the ever changing dunes.
I belong to the ever changing slopes.
I belong to the ever changing shores.
Your footsteps fading into the sands.
Your silhouette fading into the snow.
Your shoulders drowning in the water.
Here yesterday,
Gone today.
And tomorrow?
And next week?
And every year?
Will you return?
With one spark,
With one glance,
With one word,
Will you return?
Or will I build palaces
With words and paints?
Or will I weave stories
With dreams and words?
Or will carve songs
With anguish and longing.?
Carve it so deeply
In wood,
In marble,
In the ground.
If only I could reach the night sky.
If only I could reach the milky way
If only I could reach the universe.
I would leave a trail of
Petals
Feathers
And buds.
For you to find with your gaze.
For you to follow with your heart.
For you to grasp with your soul.
To light your way back home.
Under a shower of golden leaves,
Under a trail of sweet raindrops,
Under a haze of amber glow,
Will you return?
There’s no point in living in that palace full of roses and birds
There’s no point in living in that far off land between here and there.
There’s no point in living in dreams that keep on slipping through my fingers.
This is what I keep on writing.
Yet in the velvety rain,
Yet in the cottony mist,
Yet in the embroidered forest,
I lose my way.
Waves, waves.
Wind in my hair.
Wind, wind,
Waves at my feet.
Waves,
Layers,
Eons.
Does time still exist?
If I were contained
Within brick walls
Within ciment cities
Within uranium bars,
I could forget this dream.
My eyes on the prize,
My hands never idle.
My mind never my own.
Belonging
Mind & body,
Hands and feet,
Heart & soul,
To what can only be seen.
To what can only be held.
To what can only be contained.
But I am free.
One of those birds that can never stay,
But always comes back.
Dew on my skin,
Salt on my lips,
Glimmer in my eyes.
I can see beyond
Their walls
Their cages
Their bars.
Can’t you?
No you cannot.
You cannot see the palace of the birds.
You canot see the primordial promise.
You cannot see the birth of our love.
You were there,
But you are gone now.
Oh but I saw it…
Feathers,
Glimmer,
and softness
Your soul.
I noticed you.
I recognized you.
I beckoned you.
And you ran.
Leaving me to my
Palace of roses and birds
Cabin by the river and woods,
Dream of the past and the future.
I tend my fire.
I weave my life.
I light my night.
And you keep on running.
Layla Ali Sultan 