Storm

While you were sleeping,
I was tumbling in a sleepless dream.

While you were sleeping,
I counted clouds and stars and moonlit trees.

They fell from above,
As did I and as you, must have one day fallen.

As a hunger-stricken man might caress,
The last of a dying breath,

As obscurity summons the moon upon lands and forests,
Deep freeze would not kill the lakes.

And rivers would merely be made to wait in vain,
For this love to die away.

~mia

Beirut. February 2010