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Posts Tagged ‘count’

A brisk walk is the goal.

Skid some marks,

dash the line

but I’ll never say

a dream goodbye.

 

It may be pointless.

It may be endless.

And the minutes

stretch too long to count.

But I hold on

until it burns

 

a path uniquely

my own.

 

To the finish line.

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Think about the pen and the fingerprints

romancing in the glistening dust against the sunlight.

The faded photographs with watermarks

of remembrances salvaged from the past.

Brittle to touch and slowly turning to ashes.

 

Think about the bookmarks of dried rose petals

and the faint smell imprinted to the pages,

rescued from the years of forgetting the ones

that mattered most. And the dreams that never

meant to be owned like the earth where I stand.

 

If the promise of coming back becomes a distant memory-

counting each sunrises and every new moons. Let hope

travel its feet while I sit beside by the window waiting.

For innocence will turn my graying hairs to white

and youth will leave me like the wilted leaves of autumn.

 

The season changes and they say time heals every wound.

But the scars of our love-thorned lives remains relived

in our book of days. I wish the summer winds will carry

the ashes until forgetting. I wish sleep will banish the things

which I failed to tell you when you left me. I moved on.

 

I have written letters with the pen until it dried out of ink

I have recorded our memories for fear that it will be lost too.

And my waning mind gave birth to words I have bookmarked

with fresh flowers that blooms from the same earth I will lay

with my dreams. I am not afraid anymore of the longest night

 

until tomorrow.

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Half of the world rising up

on the east welcoming sun,

watching the day unfolds.

Hoping for grace, a fresh start.

 

While, there is a nacreous pearl,

a shell of the western sky peering.

Through the ridges and ridges

of sand-covered castles in the city.

 

Orange gloom in the showers

of the sandstorm. Like an hourglass,

little diamonds in the seave.

Time slips down in a quicksand.

 

Then soon, the veil of the night,

sequined by stars melted wax

over Umm Ghuwailina.  Arabia

bends its knees reciting prayers.

 

The mind wanders away counting days

and counting nights, a farewell

meeting halfway at mid-air-

homecoming touch down years.

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Father, I remember-

waiting for you

on my birthday

And they say,

you’ll bring home

a present like

what other boys have.

I wish of a little toy

I will ride along

in the neighborhood.

And try to belong.

 

Father, I forgot

how long-

I have chased

the speed of days,

counting roosters

that have crowed

at dawn break.

All the hope

that have died

and buried inside. I forgot

the tears that have dried.

 

Father, quite still-

there are images

of trees I forgot to climb.

Of kites I did not flown.

Of baseball gloves

I did not put on.

Of the nursery rhymes,

left unsung. I slept-

as the world turns

of bedtime stories

unheard. I have grown.

 

Father, see me now-

how everyday, I wake up.

And struggle to balance

like a weighing scale.

The drudgery

of riding big toys

through the alleyway

of this wild world.

As I left skid marks,

deeply scarred

the innocence of this boy.

 

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