By Fadi Abu Deeb

Look at my hand

In its palm, there is a galaxy.

The trees near which I conglomerate are an uttering sea

The atmosphere is undulating

/Don’t be deceived by the absence of color/

I am the age of the universe

And so are you!

We were carved from the same love

Yes, look, we are remembering now

But we are afraid of whispering out our unspoken words

We are lost messengers

Who set off from the same royal court

You’re right!…One hundred thousand years erase the image

Verily I say unto you:

This is how we should read the music of the origins:

Just read the frequency of the glittering of my eyes

That beats harmoniously with the heartbeat of the invisible