IN MEMORIAM – WINTRYPOET

AUGUST

Within a Great Sea of Love, my soul did hide;
Your beautiful dream to the world unknown.
It was a magical realm where angels abide,
And recited poetry as they circled my throne.

Angels were ordained there to provide,
And care for the Seed with love sown.
The door to your heart, they opened wide,
And I entered, and knew I was not alone.

I danced and kicked, and swam inside
That warm Sea where your love shone.
With no knowledge of the world outside,
I only had your warm Sea to roam.

But soon the angels would all decide,
This Sea was no longer fit for home.
You laughed in pain, as the angels sighed,
Knowing the Seed was now fully grown.

For months I journey, your joy and pride;
A holy design decreed to be shown.
For months I journey, until your swarming tide
Carried me off with a cheerful moan.

For months I journey, and then I cried,
And became the last of your dreams known.
Oh, what greater wish is there beside,
Than a Lyrical Heart to call your own?

©Habib Dabajeh

THE PEAR TREE

I stood half asleep on Memory Street,
As the Persian appeared with two black feet;
She was searching for the hand that fed her,
But all she found was an empty seat.

And every night, like a worn-out song,
It came and purred on the lawn;
She sat gazing at your empty chair,
Refusing to accept that you were gone.

On the porch the gathered leaves
Blow about and crackle in the breeze.
I try to wake, and come to my senses,
But my eyes are open, and my heart grieves.

The bluebird came and waited for You,
And sadly sang the whole day through.
It took one last gaze at Your chair,
Cried one last time, and away it flew.

Fireflies came out and filled the air.
They circled Your empty chair.
And my mind refused to accept the fact,
That years have passed since You sat there.

A silhouette appeared near the garage.
Was it my deceiving eyes? Was it a mirage?
Some dreams are cruel and vex the mind,
They taunt the heart and do not oblige.

Was this dream in earnest, or jest?
Was it asking too much to be blessed,
With one last vision of Your smiling face,
And ease a heart most cruelly oppressed?

I saw the beautiful garden as it used to be,
And Your tall and blossoming Pear Tree.
Both were in abundance and full of life.
If only the Gardener was here, and He could see!

And there beneath that old Pear Tree,
Two Sisters reunite with bread and tea.
One broke a smile, in my youth I knew,
The other appeared so far from me.

I couldn’t reach out to them, or make a sound;
My feet were frozen in the ground.
But I somehow sensed the bloodline.
The love within was all around.

And all that I beheld with eye serene;
The garden and tree are all flush and green;
I know by morning the beauty will fade,
The likes of which will never be seen.

The Pear Tree still stands in my mind,
And will forever flourish and remind
Us, those memories are all we have…
We, the Seventy plus Pears You left behind.

©HABIB R DABAJEH

YOU LEFT ME

However powerful words appear to be,
Their power is limited by gloomed memories.
They calm the heart and offer some ease,
But they can never bring you back to me.

You left me, and I wasn’t by your side;
How could I have known the timing of your soul?
You ripped my heart and left there a hole,
Which filled with tears that night I cried.

The taunting memories begin to appear,
They cloud my eyes, and the tears start
To drain what’s left of my empty heart.
No hand left to guide me, and my path unclear.

You left me when all I had was you;
Now I’m bewildered and cold as a stone:
In a crowded house, I feel all alone;
So I reflect and weep- that’s all I do.

All night I cry, but no one hears
Those prayers I wail as dawn breaks.
I ponder the decisions the High One makes,
As I sleep with eyes open and choke on my tears.

I miss so much your hugs and laughter,
As I wander aimlessly and without a clue.
Nobody is left to listen or turn for comfort to.
You left a lonely soul scarred forever after.

I often daydream, pretending you’re near;
In a pool of my tears, I sit and wait,
But not even imagination can penetrate
That magical and ever-so-distant Frontier.

I call out, but you’re nowhere to be found.
I try to verse you, but I struggle to find
The perfect words in my transfixed mind;
The intervals of teardrops are the only sound.

My days are empty, and my nights are cold,
And my willpower fades amidst my fears.
I gain nothing by waking, but more tears,
As I long in vain for what I can no longer hold.

When night falls and the crickets begin
To chirp out the window where your bed lay,
I struggle to breathe and start to fade away,
And my heart shivers and dimples my skin.

By dawn, I had cried a small puddle for you,
Where two happy birds came to bathe and dance.
They dipped their beaks with happy prance,
And then drank from the saddening brew.

And turning towards me with a brooding stare,
They grow silent with heads to the ground;
Then look to heaven, abated and spellbound,
And both fluttered off in despair.