Poems

From deep within, we find ourselves calling your name, Dr. Yousri, time and time again, just like the dawn that softly brightens the sky. You were a seed nurtured through countless seasons, as patient as the earth and as quiet as a prayer, growing roots of effort and faith that remained hidden until you blossomed like a sun that no night could ever hold back. Kindness flows through you like a gentle rain, touching souls without making a sound. Respect lives in you like a steadfast star, guiding the way without needing to be acknowledged. And your hard work your quiet, tireless work was a path walked barefoot, like a traveler who trusts only in hope. Over and over, we affirm that you truly deserve this. Time and time again, words seem too small to capture the truth. Behind your brilliance stand two shadows of grace: your mother and your father two candles that flickered through every storm, melting into sacrifice so you could shine. Their love was a river flowing beneath your steps, their generosity a sky that never closed its doors. And now, you rise, Dr. Yousri a name that feels like a fresh morning, a healer wrapped in wings of white, stepping into the delicate poetry of life. From deep within, we celebrate you, like the earth soaking up rain after a drought, like the horizon welcoming the sun. We are so proud so endlessly proud as if pride itself learned to speak your name. Step forward beyond this moment, beyond this radiant peak, for your journey is a horizon that keeps calling, time and time again, to become light.
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The world which exists beyond us is the key,
It is our ultimate destination,
This world is true and permanent
With its pure essence,
...

The sun seems bobbing
Up and down
With childish glee on the waves
It is reluctant to say goodbye to all
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Nature—
a pristine habitat,
swampy, alive with microbes,
undressed,
...

A few days ago, it was a most glorious sunny warm day,
a kind of day everyone had been waiting for all winter long.
A perfect day to have trike ride along the path behind house.
There was a real warmth from the sun,
...

I read in a poem:
This is what it sounds like;
And I fear becoming deaf.
Does poetry confuse its place, or, does life?
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I can't quite recall the last time
I felt her contentment, only her desperation,
That grave need to be secure, but
Not truly at peace, at least not with me,
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Intimate II
A Shakespearean Sonnet
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A Donnean Conceit on Intimacy
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No carnal rite defines our mingled sphere,
...

When Intimacy Dies,
Love Decays
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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You say you do not see it - what you are,
As though a light could hide within the day;
Yet I have watched it travel near and far
In all the quiet things you give away.
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Your death will come on some plain afternoon,
No trumpet blown, no warning in the air -
But just the chores half - done, a quiet noon,
A chair pulled out, and no one sitting there.
...