Child-like Hands

Running between the destiny’s dunes
Limping upon the thorns of betrayal
The only refuge from the blazing sun of denial
My own stretched shadow, no avail
Quick sand caressing, flowing brooks
Running between my bleeding fingers
The only moisture unearthed, tears
Squeezed from the almonds of mine eyes, while
All I hear arid echoes of my own screams
Why do I have ears? (If) only to hear my own sobs

Destiny’s sand making love to my withering body
Bathing the grey of my pain
Suddenly I hear the song of
Her golden folded knees
Motionless I lay
Though now my shadow gone
The only refuge from roasting in denial’s sun
The darkness of her skin…

Her marbled child-like hands
Her fingers sable silkworms
Crawling on my broken chest
Threading the cocoon
Silk of Paradise
Grown upon I
Darkness stitched garment of righteousness
Grey of my hair dye
For this silky satin gown
While my mane turned black
Betwixt dark caressing child-like hands
One movement of her fullest darkest lips
Resurrects the charred eyes
So long deep buried in grave of my face
The graveyard were millions of smiles and glances
Laid to rest…

Her hands fly like doves
Pushing away the twines of braids
Willows covering the darkened truth
Behind which…
I see… Ah! I see the Oasis
The palm trees bearing the fruit
Meal for a virgin-mother  in pain [1]
The brook quenching the child-prophet’s  thirst [2]
The she-camel  left at peace [3]
Grazing at the Pharaoh-less savannah
Schools of Hodhods  [4]
In search of their king
And the fish, her belly pregnant [5]
With the anger of a prophet

I jump to run to this wonderland
But slightest movements of my limbs
Boils and evaporates this Oasis
Virgin mother lost her son
The she-camel slain
Pharaoh’s footsteps on mud
King-less Hodhods
To never-land migrate

Puff of destiny’s sand slaps my face
Like a treacherous school teacher’s hand
Seeds of my heart burst and roast
Upon the open flames of dolour
When suddenly
Black water lilies of her hands
Blossoms on tear woven carpet of my antique face
Praying to Almighty in no words
Wishing to die in dark tomb of her hands
Gently laying my head
On silken carpet of her arms
Discoloured marble of her palms
Foundation slab for my broken chest
My eyes hear her skin
Though her lips forever shut
Yearning to kiss the black truth
I lay still
Be still, the one you love shall walk to you
Be blind, your pen shall see the beauty
Be poor, treasures of universe fly to nest in your hearth
Be silent, all around you shall find their way
Be weak, the kings shall be crushed under your rolling tears

So hard to lay still…
And the only shade in Saharan desert of destiny
Glittering darkness of her wordless being…

[1] Mary virgin-mother of Jesus
[2] Prophet Ismail or Isaac in valley of Makkah
[3] A she-camel sent from Allah to a race of people called Thamud in Arabia who killed the animal and Allah destroyed them in ancient times
[4]  Spy birds of Prophet Solomon
[5]  Prophet Jonah

© 2003-2001,  Dariush Gholizadeh