From the lineage of dawnlight
I sang —
and a familiar ache
tightened the breath within my chest.
It was an evening
when the stars
collapsed upon the darkened roof of the city,
and the sky, in sorrow,
drew the black veil of night
over its face.
When I wrote of you,
a wandering tear
stung the corner of my eye;
a clear, trembling ring of longing
slipped softly
beneath my eyelid.
The tales were unseen,
and a liberated echo
spiraled through my ear,
to awaken desire
within the heart,
and a boundless fervor
within the unsettled mind
to rise.
When I spoke of rain,
the stubborn, lingering leaves
fell upon the soaked earth.
From the naked shame of branches
the footfall of winter
could already be heard.
It was the patience of earth,
and a healing draught
distilled from the greenness of leaf
and the flowing essence of water,
to carve the secret of renewal
forever
into the soul of the root.
When I sang of your presence,
the fear
of the night’s dark demon
lifted and fled.
A strange, quiet wonder
settled in my being.
The proud mane of the mountain
gleamed
upon the cry of the sun.
A rainbow,
gathered from the eyes of the daughters of light,
struck gently
upon the wall of the narrow street,
and the gate of morning
opened wide
to the first gaze of day.
Arsalan – Wiesbaden
10 October 2025
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