Getting used to saying goodbye
Fate sealed, sentiments override.
Bosom swells with bridal expectancy
Heart aches from years of loving solely.
Had my beloved taken the remedy
My beloved would’ve healed spiritually.
Friend buries even the best of people
And corpse is nothing but remains to be mourned.
So long, Mogadishu, so long:
For me, my nostalgia
As for you, your lost innocence.
@ Safi Abdi...2009
Save your tears, dear
Worlds a place of fear
You were not born in heaven
Travel back in time, regain your sight
Its crucial that you keep sanity intact.
Lament not your case, or mine
Lest the ignorant we cheer
In this parched land of ours
You’re a lone breeze my dear
What rain-drop, in her right mind,
Would mingle with a roaring ocean?
Save your tears, dear
In these dark days of ours
Keep your lids arid, waterless
like the cliffs of this house divided.
But then there is a weapon in Patience
Never has Hope ever lost a soul
And none has monopoly over Air.
@ Safi Abdi, all rights reserved.
The love for Somalia
like a downpour of
sweet fresh water
off the ground
the ills of this nation sweeps.
The newly born bonding
with the plaintiff
resuscitates the forgotten
Saint.
Dare to love
and you shall be
in the rush
to come home.
Cool Southerly breeze
and a North cheerful
are a unit in the Attar.
A body a plane boards;
Somalia is my sanctuary.
@ Safi Abdi
Stars in my eyes that were so trim
My Somalia, my dreams, and that grim
realism
I say, Allah! what an amazing trip!
If only I knew the why of that trick!
This is Your heaven
And there my spot
And there’s that rainbow
At every such grip.
Before the light
There’s the shade
Behind the mountain
There’s the plane.
There’s Great Musa
And there the learned Khidr
There’s the slaying of that guiltless child;
Or so it seemed to the eager Musa
Until absolute knowledge became the truce.*
This is Your heaven
And there’s my keenness
My dreams, my Somalia
And that grim realism
Actuality and hopes in collision
Ya Allah! Shall I ever know why the cactus tree
Teases the green grass?
@ Safi Abdi, all rights reserved.
* The Story of Musa (Moses) and Khidr is told in the Quran, for ref. please check: chapter 18, verses 60-82.
By the door a beggar praying:
walking, laying, sitting, standing,
Waiting for Peace.
What are they saying?
What are they seeing?
Are they as naked as
the beggar by the Door?
@ Safi Abdi, all rights reserved.
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