Winter, Beloved, As white as wishes whistling Through poems and prayers.
Damascus steel cuts silk. Drips of water punch the rocks. Wind caresses the sands. Breeze sways the twigs and ushers the leaves to land on the ground. Snowflake falls one by one wrapping the ground to doze off. With eloquent silence they make things happen.
How can I say about language ….except that it is as subtly powerful as nature, or even much more with its ability to transform or transmigrate whatever is in the hands, head and heart—
Whistle to me, Winter. These ears are frozen and distant but this soul is as warm and fragrant as jasmine tea.
Monday, thank you for being nice to me. Tuesday, I know you are too. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, be, too.