Rhythms: The Damascus Encounter

Source. Pexels. Pixabay.

by LJ Frank

moonless nights

in Damascus, Syria

ages ago

a personal encounter in search

of meaning and history

in a land of epics and songs

I noted in my journal

that livable is a matter of preference

amid both the ruble and hopes of experience

while learning is a non-linear acquisition of knowledge,

yet a mystifying phenomena occurred

as we caught each other’s gaze

and beheld the wordless feelings in the other’s eyes

like the rhythm from an ancient song

perhaps a reincarnation of a long-ago existence

as if we had met in a century,

well before that moment

and where we may have truly belonged

closer to the sea in harmony,

a quiet was attached to a stream of emotions

as if waking from a dream 

awareness is its own reality 

 to withdraw from one’s thoughts

is disingenuous to the heart

movement takes many forms until breathing is no more. 

and endless days later in a city of strangers

an old book shop enchanted my curiosity

with a version of Čehrāzād (Scheherazade) lying on a shelf 

when a hand touched my shoulder

and turning to see who it was

your familiar eyes smiled

the one that I had encountered in Damascus

ages ago

a complexity of time was countered with a simple hello

we wondered how many times incarnations can occur

to recognize more than one – is a gift.