Metaphysics, you see, brings bitter friends
The chorus of saints, prophets and sages break in
The mind probes the night
When senses go to the place by the side post
The place where Love is buried
Eyes open in the darkness
A touch of a foot on earth
Grounded and a brew of questions grow in
But the face is set
Little waves beat on the rumbling heart
The eyes soften
The guides against illness cozen the mind
At first, their silence and their own music
Beckons you a beggar in front of a church
Like a little boy begging for excitement and ecstasy
They have finally found the pearl
What a pity if it should destroy us all
…Now consider this and throw caution to the wind.
Hadi Atallah 
Leave a comment