Time slips through us like water cupped in our hands.We try to hold it, measure it, fill it.But what is time, really? A ticking clock? A sunrise? A lifetime? Some say it’s a gift. Others call it a test.To some, time is sacred.To others, it’s a burden. We spend it. […]
There are moments when love brings us to the threshold of mystery—where language dissolves, and only silence remains.Noura stood in that silence. She had watched him quietly for some time—his voice carrying the weight of unseen worlds,his shoulders holding storms he would not name.There was a stillness in him—not the […]
I am a walker—a walker in this vast journey called life. Walking? Yes—walking. Not just the rhythmic beat of feet on pavement,but the sacred metaphor it carries. Walking is about showing up.Embracing the road ahead—dusty, winding, or steep.It’s about perseverance in the face of challenge.The grace to keep moving forward,the […]
What is day?What is night?A veil lifted, a veil drawn.Are they apart?Or are they one? They reach for each other,slipping between shadow and light,touching, holding, letting go—never lost, never alone. The sun does not leave the night behind,nor does the night turn away.They meet in quiet places,fold into each other’s […]
Sacred places and sanctified spaces are never chosen; they are merely discovered. The intricacies of sacredness are exemplified by those rare beings who know they have never been separated from its life-sustaining powers. Their voices reflect the perpetual wisdom of timeless traditions that are entwined with the terrain of Creation. The deepest secrets of life are hidden in the earth’s crevices.
He: “When a woman calls a man her heart, what does she mean?”
She: “It means that she has risen above the physical relationship and has entered another dimension of love. In this realm, she strengthens his consciousness and becomes a part it. She nurtures and enables him to reach his highest potential without losing her own identity. It is the ultimate true intimate relationship between a man and a woman, which is very rare and least spoken about.”
Heart burning with passion,
eyes streaming with tears.
Burning and drenching together,
in a mysterious yearning.
Radiantly adorned
you came,
and then you left.
Without uttering,
even a sweet word.
You just left.
Without nearing me
you left.
Beneath the layers
of tradition, religion
reasoning and understanding,
I burn
in passion’s bed of red.
Tonight
put away your manuscript,
lay your pen aside.
Allow your fingers
to create on my body.
It is a blank page
awaiting your words.
Write a sentence—
No
write a sonnet.