Upon each moment that was
And every mystery that wasn’t,
Since the dawn of time,
We bestowed a name and a sign—
To free color from the void,
To lead the soulless
To the embrace of spirit,
To carve permanence
Into the fleeting winds of the world,
And to shine a glimmer of presence
Upon the face of the earth.
On the second day,
From the proud nest of the Simorgh,
And the molten form of the Phoenix,
We crafted a marvel—
So that each time it burned,
It would rise again,
And teach the flight of rebirth
To its mirrored soul.
On the third day,
From the golden orb of the sun,
And the hidden heat of the earth,
We kindled a fire of love
Deep within the heart—
A balm to heal
The wounds of time.
Then, at dawn once more,
From river and plain,
From ocean and rain,
From the stars above,
And all that could be breathed,
And all that grew from the soil,
We borrowed fragments
To weave an unmatched image
Upon the canvas of earth and water.
At last, on the final eve,
In a single gaze upon the world,
Eve’s rarest jewel
Sang a song—
And with the arch of an eyebrow,
She brought us to our knees.
A thousand forbidden words,
Born from the lineage of wisdom,
Fell from her lips,
And the scent of love,
Drenched in wild blossoms,
Was cast upon the mountains and fields.
Thus, in a storm of defiance,
She renounced the gift of paradise,
And in a surge of uproar,
She etched the mark of her name and hue
Upon every petal that blooms on earth—
A trace eternal.
Arsalan – Tehran
(February 26, 2025)
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