It starts with brokenness,
being married to a silent wail,
having all the words at your disposal,
and no ears to receive them,
being so melodic,
that heaven yearns for you,
and yet so detached from everything and everyone,
that you’d never be missed.
I see that,
more so, I feel it.
I ache to connect to it,
to let it know, that I know,
and yet it remains,
I’m not at all inspired,
by people that have no room,
for being empty,
people that flee from broken heartedness,
people that don’t know,
watching you grow and rebuild,
is what is most beautiful about you.
Music by Dhafer Youssef Quartet – Les Ondes Orientales
I refused to lay in my pit of wallowing,
because of Your promise.
I’ve used brokenness and defeat,
to fuel everything beautiful I can learn,
and always relied on my hands,
to guide me to the truth.
The truth that all beauty,
is an indication of one’s inclinations,
and ability to recognise it,
and to remain downtrodden,
is a reflection of one’s low opinion,
of You and Your promise.
This is how I carry myself,
defeat after defeat,
sin after sin,
finding trinkets of beauty,
even in my most despicable state.
I’m never ashamed,
because I know,
there’s far more beauty yet.
I often question my aversion to groups,
and distrust in closeness,
and then I remember,
it’s rejection, that’s built my walls so high,
made my tongue fancy with wit,
my hand flowing with writ.
The reluctance to vulnerability,
has furnished my soul with all the excuses,
of why I crave to be close enough to catch your scent,
yet distant enough for you to long for mine.
This connection I crave,
is nothing more than a muse on crack.
Wesam El dahabi
Necessity spawns creativity.
There’s a reason why you’re deprived of things.
You must believe in a wisdom beyond your comprehension.
All that banishment,
all that parchment
is preparing you
for a poetic end.
It’s easy to be infatuated with the idea that you are owed a perfection of practise.
Of being able to sail through your art, your craft, your day to day chores without resistance.
What you deem is the world conspiring against you, is sometimes the world conspiring for you. The value in everything is intrinsic, and for you to realise what you have will require continuous external pressure until that manifests.
-Wesam El dahabi
Nobility has its passage,
and it is not a dragging robe,
it’s dragging your ego in the dirt,
until it is one with the soil of humanity,
until you care not from where truth comes from,
as long as it comes.
If it comes, it comes.
If it doesn’t,
there will be aloe for ink.
He with the darkest secrets should master silence,
observant with where his tongue may lead him,
treading lightly around the minefield of egotistical swaying,
until all the quiet becomes a guiding light.
It may be that this introversion is the vehicle for my salvation,
it may be that it lulls me into a false sense of security,
the balance of trusting the light and embracing the darkness,
ever so fine a thread.