Za Italian Buffon
Syria

A Jasmine Plea

A jasmine tree called my silence.
With a scent-full voice,
it cried:
“Write your love down!
Set your letters up high!
Free yourself!
Off sins,
off their seamless prison
and give life,
make my flowers bloom.


Hearken to your fingers,
-your heart-
Tame his smiles;
to melodies
upon your dreams.


Bedew your lips then,
with a few dewdrops of his eyes,
and smile him into paintings”.


My hands grew wearisome;
if, alone, I left you
ink on my notes.
Yet as you appear inside,
I return to you; crying
after days of pages
without you.


Words, my own words, ruled me.
As I sought a better together
flipping through infinite pages,
of you.
- But tunes did more.
Those silent tunes
danced among our letters;
though not mine nor yours.
They swung inside my form
and became smoother with you.


Then, I shall nevermore
silence the jasmine tree!
I’ll word down
-shed- pages of you.
And my jasmine scent
shall set you free.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
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