The Falaj ….

From the foothills of the mountains

spring-water flows into the falaj ..

as the village sleeps in the sun

and history runs past the mud-baked ruins

like trickles over stone ..

and green-plumaged birds plunge,

in a shimmer of iridescence,

into the shadow of the date-palms.

The time-faded blue of an enamelled door

speaks to me of yesterday’s skies;

when bougainvillea held this crumbling wall

in a wild vermilion embrace

and bloomed and died

for yesteryear’s eyes …

when spring-water flowed along the falaj

like the laughter of children at play

and green-plumaged birds flew out from the shade

in a fluster of squawks

and the village life was the life of the village

and the city was a life-time away …

About atomsofstars

Reticent .. but I hope my poetry speaks for me .. Favourite quotation .. ' Uttering a word is like striking a note on the keyboard of the imagination.' Ludwig Wittgenstein
This entry was posted in History, Love, Nature, Philosophy, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to The Falaj ….

  1. Overflowing poetry, Maria, par excellence!

  2. Francina says:

    Hi Mayra,

    I’ve nominated you for the ABC Blogger Award, so please visit me for more info.


  3. Shermeen says:

    Pure mastery. I am speechless.

  4. atomsofstars says:

    Gosh! Shermeen …. and so am I 🙂

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