To my Beloved friend, Leon Botha (deceased, immortal)
Had our souls never met,
My own soul would have withered.
Had our hearts never cried at love,
My own core would have severed.
Had I only a shooting star,
Or Magic to direct your way,
To where your deepest desires lay,
Wishes, and dreams stray!
Our dream of Love and Grace,
Our path of Birth and Death,
Every night imminent,
Under the will to love, and that to stay.
Our souls sometimes ache,
Our hearts sometimes bleed,
To the moans of an earthly wind,
Being raped by strange fears.
As feeble a lament could be,
By some alchemy, may we marry fire,
At turns, may we be the volcano’s vent,
And the running lava.
Always will there be an evildoer,
Be it by ignorance, be it by choice,
To attempt leading us astray,
Abashed he shall stand at the end of his days.
When darkness heaves in sight,
And light steps aside,
Remember that the eagle in the sky,
Will one day come down to see its shadow.
And when shadows descend,
And when daylight burns your skin,
Even that shall perish of thunder strike,
And that of cleansing rain.
Bless our eyes for having shown
Endless light upon the Stars,
Bless our tongues for having borne
Most valuable words upon our Hearts.
My love, ~mia
Beirut, November 2009