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Sky
  • Writer's pictureRawan

Born from the sun but here she resides in a moonless night



If you knew how hard it is, how rare it is to be fully sane and completely alive.


I know you are in notting-hill smoking, making love to the changing sky, you grew far and big like an old tree; I’ve grown fast to an isolated space rock floating in middle of nowhere.

I remember as vivd as i see the now, walking in the shadows of the moving trees, the warmth of being so loved, a long Spanish summer. The sun was near, tress have been talking to us, our knees have kissed the floors so many time; we have so much to look forward too so much to live for, to die for another night at that summer house.


I dream of it all, a deep disbelief of its beauty, the warmth of it all is beyond my limited comprehension; how can we be the same yet so different? born from the sun but here she resides in a moonless night. I wanted to escape it all and go back to it all and get stuck in time and space, they are all strangers here.. I am a stranger here, and I do miss the familiar faces, the warmth of a loving family. Life is cold and long, and people are not sincere as we wish them to be. Life is nothing but a poem that we enjoyed the very first two lines and we got fooled enough to finish it, I knew you would sit right across me and disagree; but you don’t get to that anymore.

I need your wisdom and gentle guidance of how to make sense of God’s love in these fires of hell, to forgive those who caused us to never experience how to be safe again, whom they loved us less than required, who made us fully dysfunctional beyond repair. My heart is not wide enough, I can’t bear it.. I wonder if life was gentle enough to buy you more time what would you say about the person I am today? if we sat in that old library and talked until bed time, what would you tell me? to proceed with the force? to accept and move on and forward? to escape as far as possible and restart a whole life?

I still remember, I always do.. once you told me about a tale as old as history, you turned 20 and your whole universe collapsed. And all you did the following 35 years was a choice to rebuild every single day.


Mi Abuelito.. I miss you, in my heart I carry you within me, I carry the softness of being.. and I absorbed the gentleness and the promise of a forgiving sun that raises again after darkness, just as you taught me.

I remember the long Spanish summer of my childhood, and I remember how much I was loved, so loved to the core of my being; and if that was all I had of life, it would’ve been enough.

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