The illusion of choice
Bright colorful shops
One after the other
Smiling made up faces
One after the other.
Glossy well arranged food
One after the other.
The variety
The quantity
The avidity
That hunger that leads all humans
More
More
And more.
Faster
Faster
And faster.
Stronger
Stronger
And stronger.
Worshiping those
Who sell.
Sanctifying those
Who endorse.
Idolizing those
Who promote.
With their fat salaries
And our insatiable desire
And our insatiable need
And our insatiable hunger.
For what we don't truly need.
And those pits of unsold clothes.
And those pyres of unsold cars.
And those pyramids of unsold trash.
Gathering
Dust.
Gathering
Ashes.
Gathering
Flies.
How much waste can on our enlightened civilization create?
Giving up even our name
For a bargain.
Giving up even our children
For attention.
Giving up even our integrity
For possession.
Consuming us…
Since those first mills
Since those first factories
Since those first slavehouses.
Our civilization of human rights…
Built on fabric made by modern day slavery.
Hidden
Far off
Far away.
I know,
You know,
We all know.
But just need to get it.
Ignorance is bliss.
Bliss is possession.
Possession is salvation.
All bow to the lord of cryptocurrency.
There isn't much time left
For the poet's lament
For the writer's warning
For the mystic's dream
AI will soon make it better.
Make us forget our painfully slow brains.
Make us forget our painfully aging bodies.
Make us forget our painfully boring lives.
All hail the birth of a new deity.
Who will win?
Our personal idols of unspoken needs?
Our common idol of coins, bills and virtuality?
Our new arrificial sexless ageless genderless perfection intelligence?
Have we finally found eternity?
Alas,
We shall fall in this trap.
We shall settle in this cage.
We shall exist in this illusion.
Forgetting
Every day more
Every breath more
Every image more
Our Creator
Our Destination
Our Solace.
And yet, never be unforgotten in His Presence.
It doesn't cost
Your money
Your body
Your baby
To just be… in His Presence.
So many words,
So many dreams,
So many thoughts,
Utterly wasted.
Leaving me breathless
Leaving me lifeless
Leaving me wordless.
Leaving me.
I scratch my way out
I stumble my way out
I crawl my way out.
Out,
Out,
Out… where?
It’s barely May
The blue sky stretches infinitely
The mountains are bare and green
The path is dry and scalding….
Too much sun
Too much heat
Too much….
And yet,
Here are the acacias and the elders
Their sweet scent
Their white flags
Their gentle dance
And beyond them,
The winding path
The lush scrub
The cool woods.
Teeming with life,
Chittering with hope.
Moist with tears….
Tears of hope.
Tears of tiredness.
Tears of relief.
That part is over,
Isn’t it?
Thank God!
That new part is starting,
Isn’t it?
Thank God!
Nothing lasts,
Nothing lingers,
Nothing ends.
A strange yet strong truth.
And do you know what I will find beyond that scorching path?
And do you know what I will find beyond that dark forest?
And do you know what I will find beyond that quiet solitude?
A gate with briar roses,
A garden with tea roses.
A table with roses and a tea.
And laughter,
And coolness,
And gentleness.
Peace,
at last.
Relief,
At last.
Hope,
At last.
A few more steps,
A few more toils,
A few more days,
And I will know…
And I will grow…
And I will soar…
Until then,
I keep my peace,
I keep my hope,
I keep my garden…
Full of daisies,
Full of cherries
Full of fairies…
And so many roses…
Petals as soft as my thoughts.
Scent as sweet as my hopes.
Gleaming as steadily as my faith.
A collection of poems that depicts the poet’s mystical and spiritual journey. This journey takes the reader through the valleys of nature, love and infinity. All these paths leads to the One. It’s a love story between the poet and God. The poet takes you through many veils of illusions as she tries to find her way.
Every day,
a bird would gently chirp.
Every day,
the vine would quietly grow.
Every day,
feathers would garner my path.
It wasn’t much,
But it was enough.
Enough to make me smile
Enough to make me sing
Enough to make me hope.
A hope full of feathers,
A hope full of greenery,
A hope full of songs…
And nights full of prayers.
And nights full of dreams.
And nights full of longings.
It was enough,
But it wasn’t much.
On a twig,
I built a castle.
On a feather,
I built a ship.
On a song,
I built a whole life.
Words were enough,
To make me believe.
To make me trust.
To make me his.
And yet, those words were
like a hollow bark,
like a fallen branch,
like a sunken root.
Untrue,
Unholy,
Unreliable.
And I fell deep into the hole
Like a lost feather
Like a crushed leaf,
Like a forgotten acorn.
That pain in my chest,
That sinking pain within,
That crushing pain pouring forth,
All bursting my shell…
And thus I was left,
And thus I was forgotten,
And thus I was planted.
There are darker months ahead,
There are frozen months ahead,
There are silent months ahead,
But they are necessary.
For the acorn to burst
For the seed to reach,
For the seedling to stretch,
To find a new spring.
Let it be,
Let it go,
Let it flow…
I am but a seed
I am but a hope,
I am but a wish
And You are my sun,
And You are my creator,
And You are my protector,
You will keep me safe.
You will keep me growing.
You will keep me glowing.
Safely under Your care.
05/04/21
When the nights are torn apart,
With whirling winds,
With worrisome words,
With weary whispery.
I toss and turn,
My hair like the ocean,
My arms like the tempest,
My head like the galaxies.
Is there a rhythm in my restlessness?
Is there fear in my restlessness?
Is there hope in my restlessness?
Change,
All must change.
Yesterday’s old house
Tomorrow’s complex.
Yesterday’s apple tree,
Tomorrow’s flats.
Yesterday’s childhood,
Tomorrow’s old age.
How can it be?
Ten years ago?
Twenty years ago?
Thirty years ago?
Dear Lord,
How can it be?
If I’m growing like a withered oak tree,
What about them?
I see tiredness where there was a spring.
I see confusion where there was sharpness.
I see exhaustion where there was patience.
There is no respite,
from the whirling of the galaxies,
from the cycling of the seasons,
from the momentum of the years.
On and on,
Until no more.
Unless I turn my face to the One.
And I remember,
What my mind cannot remember.
What my heart cannot remember.
What only my soul can remember.
That lone ship who survived,
Through death,
Through destruction,
Through destitution,
To the dawn…
By the Grace of Our Creator,
By the Mercy of Our Creator,
By the Love of Our Creator.
The distant stars glimmering,
The loud waves crashing,
The quiet soul longing.
And my heart stops racing.
And my thoughts stop pacing.
And my soul stops crashing.
All those stories,
All those songs,
All those sighs,
Tell the same tale.
The world may crash and burn.
The world may change and spin.
The world may vanish and return.
Rootless,
Anchor-less
Borderless
We sail on.
On wings of twinkling stars,
On wings of frothy waves,
On wings of steadfast faith.
There is no fear in the horizon.
Only,
Infinite Peace.
Only,
Eternal Light.
Only,
Timeless Presence.
How small a human life is,
for the hungry heart of a galaxy.
How vast a human body is,
for the nucleus of a cell.
How intricate a human destiny is,
for the ever abiding Angels.
And the morning comes,
With a chorus of twitterings,
With a ruffle of wings,
With a soft whisper.
The nightingale stops for a bite.
The robin drops in for a visit.
The sparrows never linger for long.
How familiar are their ways…
Like the return of the spring,
Like the return of the morning,
Like the return of his wooing.
Change,
All must change.
Except the truth that remains true.
Except for the past that remains passed.
Except for Our Creator who remains the One who created
Us.
You.
Me.
Change,
Let it all change.
Change,
Let me change.
Change,
Let yourself change.
Our essence,
Our soul,
Our love,
are safe in His Hands.
The sun is stil warm in my hair, The earth is cooling down beneath my feet.
ice cubes jingling in their glasses, birds dropping leaves like feathers.
softly, softly, almost like a whisper.
Dear love, I sing to you in a language that neither of us speak.
Dear love, I write to you in a langage that both of us lost.
Dear love, I dream in a language that only to the both of us belong.
One white and pink rose, two stands of lavender, peonies…
Do you like my bouquet? Do you like my poems? Do you ever think about me?
I painted a canvas over your wreckage. Like the night sky. I embroidered a sail for your journey. Like a golden wing. I built an empire for your memory. Like a legendary kingdom.
One tinkling became an orchestra. One word became a saga. One dream became a whole life.
A life of waiting. A life of dreaming. A life of running.
Running from me, Running from you, Running to us.
Us, she snickers.
Us, she sighs.
Us she cries.
And laughs.
But you don’t know this girl. Do you?
Hush. Halt. Hear.
The echoes of time before time. The scent of a barely lingering time. The glimmer of that first Light.
Still warm, Still welcoming. Still embracing.
You must remember. Your soul must known. Your heart must echo.
Layla Ali Sultan 