it is clear through my own wind, the hailstones started falling on my shoulders , on my gallery, while the diffusion of sky's light became the white interval between all colors in my heart !!!


My Dream in a Peace Gallery


My Dream in a Peace Gallery
By Dr .Aisha Khawaja Razem – Jordan

The wind seemed so brown and looked like my childhood dollies with
Brown hair and honey eyes between my arms!! But the wind may be was white or black coming from the sky blowing the walls of my heart, making the color in my left side blue on the pink at the same time ! Blows through the cracks of my bones. Sneaking to my blood under my skin. Reminding me with the rain that never stops or say Hi even in the perfect season which holds the true wind in my good old windy land in Palestine! And it can never touch the glass of my vision waiting the wet feeling against this tough screams of blowing so hard and sad.
The wind still speaking by its whistling language behind my closed windows. Pulling the curtains through the cracks of my bones in cold! Leaving my face plunged to the brown soil full of flowers and trees...... that was on the rocks of my imagined Gallery in mind!! That fills my smiles by peace always!!
So I started moving my finger on the glass drawing a face with a big smile like the actor on the life theatre or clown!! Which gave me a little poise in spite my tears!! my features turned to laugh quickly remembering the very old lovely dream that took fifty years , dancing in mind in every second of living without finding time to build any of its corners , in spite the will and materials and mind thoughts and ideas !! !! Nothing but impossible peace gallery!!
I knew that the wind will vanish my dreams again and replace its sound to bloom me in satisfaction. Since she has been my beloved whispering friend in winters only as Iam lonely. Though she is the only soul who understands my dreams in gallery!! May be it was my fault to name my dream a peace gallery! Since she screamed loudly: name it blowing wind!! And it really became blowing in all the stations of my life.
So every little tiny smile or cry in my stop or runway stations became a part of wind!
I do not know if I have exaggerated by hosting the wind in my chest welcoming by smile every dot of its lines, and talk softly about my life project in peace gallery!!
May be the wind new my matching heart and became close more, but I wrote it in blowing, in poetry since that!!!
The wind now, in this moment while canalizing the friendship between us started throwing some snow which made me give a big smile in happiness for the white!! But my finger continued painting in silence all over the glass up and down!!
Up and down without looking through the window out side or thinking to realize the secret of the white !
The white that my mother kept telling me about. And always praising the life cuffed in only white at the end! but I really forgot to pay any attention to the finger who was happily and strongly moving on cold glass , painting all the way long the edges , the bottoms , the surfaces of my window to show up the wind how great friend Iam and how honest my fingers to the colors especially the colors of wind !! That became my words in Poetry !! In the beginning and end!
Started listening carefully to the sounds out side, coming through out the cracks of my bones , listening to the ground loops of hoops around my rest which couldn't stop painting to show off the wind how great the relation is between me and her !!Between poetry and pain ..... Between Poetry and Pain!!
The wind reflected my face on the glass and shadow but I have not seen any of the outsiders, non of the space or the lights, the darkness even became more black so I only thought of lightening the space by candles in the words of poetry!! !!
I saw my self in my finger drawing the whole statue of every thing in my pulse that was welcoming
The wind and was carrying the dust mixed with sands to my cracks in bones, to warm my palm!
The wind splashes the carpet under my feet!!Though my arms collapsed tight to my chest shivering with memories to weep away my days and dreams who have gone just like that wind exactly!!
And like the season's shoulders while Iam away from home again and again! I started weeping in Poetry!!
On the glass of my windows.. While I am sitting on my rocking chair putting my face between my palms ready to cry so high! the wind screamed between the cracks of the world getting to push me to walking in the street, wrapped up with my thick black blanket , the blanket that mother left on the same moment she wept my brother on the way of Jericho to the tent in the wind !! To the war when I felt ready to weep in poetry like the rivers' tears shedding my peace Gallery! But I did not feel cold or warm. I remember all I felt is that I forgot something or lost something. I searched my heart's pockets for the tenth time and looked for my eyes wallet, . Everything is in it's place, the tears are filling the wallets, the fears are filling the Hearts pockets, but I couldn't overcome my feelings to build a peace Gallery!! So I splashed the wind by all beautiful colors in poems , since then I found the explanation for the rhythm when I was already prevailed over every drop in eyes , it is clear through my own wind, the hailstones started falling on my shoulders , on my gallery, while the diffusion of sky's light became the white interval between all colors in my heart !!!




Essay by Aisha Razem
Read 720 times
Written on 2008-02-28 at 03:00

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