The Gift
Anas al' Hourani

A gift is present, calm and daring.
A gift is alive with the joy inside it.
A luminous life hidden far beneath
the thick and unknown unknowns
that hides what a gift has to give.

And a life is a live by the music of the soul
… Or else can't be alive.
A life is precious by the power of death.
The power of its vitality is nothing compared
to nothingness.

When out of nothingness, everything is born
And everything is to be, and everything is done,
We stare blankly and a prophet sings:
"All is a waste and nothing and wind"
When all is love and love is the wind.
the soft breaths that march, and march the wind
Are not lost, my dear, I can feel them.

Full of agony and weight and tears
They smell of dark odors of other worlds.
Full of vapor of the brutal cold
Winters of nowhere, and to nowhere it goes.

I can see my slow breathing now in the cold
Treading softly and disappearing,
With low murmuring whispers
And soft soft kisses
I wish would be reached.

A life is a breath, is a life, is a gift,
A gift is present, calm and daring
A gift is a kiss hidden in the airs
Hidden in the stars, and the seas out there
Hidden in the manipulated truths of manuscripts
That were forever, manipulated.

Praise to the life that waits to die
And thus to live again
Praise to the phoenix that is hidden
Beneath each breath I take
A longing to the soft whispers of beauty
As it is to longing to the flute of Joseph.

A gift is a life, and life is alive
A gift is a sermon to the enchanted people

A gift is love, love to you…