Spring From Ash Poem by Haitham ALRemawi

Spring Blossoms have a name and smell,
Which is obvious to blind and discerning
Colors Privacy of Blossom
Is hidden except to bees, butterflies
Or a wayfarer looking for a homeland
My homeland at the time of modernity,
Is my homeland
But the pavement in the industrial way,
Was covered by weeds
Became gray, then died
Maybe we do not agree a lot,
Over the beauty in the music of Bach
But we do much disagree,
Over the eligibility of the martyrdom
And children's right in vigil
We will need a long winter to wash ideas
Civilization and dead, or nothingness attack
We will need a ringing tone on our mobile phones,
For revolution
Because the date - now - is a condition of generosity
I'll prepare as I could the force of sadness
A torrent of fast meals to smoke
I'll tension the ligament of yesterday and memories,
At the time of mourning
I'll run aground to my self,
In the time of absence
On hilltops which is many,
We believe in fire
But believe only ash.