Istanbul Enterprising

Can you smell the dawn
Grazing along the surface
Of the foamy sea
Can you feel the breeze
Push against your face
And fill your lungs
With endless love
Can you hear the morning prayer
Echoing through the city’s stones
Silent sponges, hardened memories
Can you see the seamstress enterprising
The baker smiling
As she tosses life between her palms
Can you taste the sweetness
Of an innocent hope
And steadfast faith
Staring the centuries in the eyes
Without budging
In the sea
In the air
In the people of this place
A testament to god’s magnifecence
And his eternal grace

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Manuscript from Cordoba

In the beautiful steamy haze floating above my morning coffee I sat there on a narrow balcony and stared at the old alleyways and streets that spoke to me of many memories and tales. The bitter brew of the finest Arabic coffee grains soaking in my mouth painted every image in my mind with the darkest shades of brown until the city melted into something from the past, a past that I could not recall. Emperors came and emperors left but here we have remained for thousands of years rejoicing with the bounties of our generous land and sea withstanding every conqueror, conquering every journeying heart until Cordoba with every piece of stone and brick and wooden stall became a sleeping giant taking refuge beneath the gentle lashes of a history that chose to spare us all.