Morning Poem
The poet Sabah Al-Hakeem expresses:
Your morning is love, honey, and amber,
Your morning is musk, roses, and more.
Your morning is a message for every distant soul,
For every stranger who has lost his way and wandered.
Your morning is light and my heart sings,
In this troubled time, joy takes its sting.
Your morning heals sadness with all its grace,
And nourishes the plains when they face drought’s trace.
Your morning is rain, and you are clarity,
You are life-giving water and remedy.
To every one who has lost hope and despair,
Near you, every ailment fades, all troubles wear.
Your morning is a face that brightens today,
When it turns away, security fades away.
Your morning is a celebration for each wounded heart,
When I circle around you, my sorrows depart.
I seem like a rose in a vast garden’s embrace,
And you—I find a comforting vision, a tender trace.
When my pain hides away, the morning light breaks,
Your morning is the star of night that undakes,
And darkness retreats into oblivion’s fold,
While brightness illuminates, revealing the bold.
Your morning is a melody for my sorrowed path,
And your voice echoes, soothing each breath and math.
When a word is spoken in this space,
The valleys sing with tender grace.
Wounds recede, and time stands anew,
Existence turns into a haven, pure and true.
Your morning is the pulse, you embody life’s flow,
Your morning gives solace to every rising woe,
The light of dreams for the night that has passed,
And a dawn that leans over horizons vast.
The light forced the dark to retreat and flee,
Awakening my dreams, setting them free.
Nights turned to days and a chorus of the palm trees,
Your morning perfumes the air with sweet memories.
Your morning lights my dreary path bright,
And softens my pure heart with its gentle light.
Your morning is pure, holy, it appears,
If gardens wither, your love perseveres.
Your morning is poetry, and you are its muse,
The music for the soul, making the heart enthuse.
Your morning, oh my desire, like a sweet rhyme,
When my heart sings, it wanders through time.
Your morning is honey that won’t ever change,
For you are the root of the fragrant exchange.
Then let us renew a road that’s grown old,
As time slips away; do not delay, be bold.
When you come, my spirit will leap with delight,
And the eyes of the nights will watch over you tight.
A Morning Poetry with a Touch of Whispers
Poet Saud Suleiman Al-Yousef states:
Your presence… is it dawn that decorates my morning?
Your voice… or a gentle flute serenading with longing?
I imagined your sweet features like joyful news,
And your voice, a rhythm of celebration that enthuses.
You filled my morning with splendor, as if
It were bottles of perfume, released in a whiff.
Like you are the gardens on the move,
Leisurely walking, as if from clouds you prove.
I came to you like a child unaware of love’s play,
Believing that love is merely a game, a playful ballet.
I deciphered the essence of love in romance tales,
Turning the pages of passion, where meaning prevails.
Your beauty is the sweetest knowledge I engage,
Yet I claim still to be naive, at a loss on this stage.
Here lie my longings, a frame and a thought,
A box of colors—when will we complete this plot?
I lost my heart the moment I won your affection,
Desiring the losses of love, though it causes reflection.
I forgot the wisdom you shared at our first meet,
In awe of your beauty, calling you enchanting and sweet.
Do not leave me like a child chasing after lost toys,
Returning with wounds, devoid of joyful noise.
Your Morning is Sugar
As poet Nizar Qabbani writes:
If a day passes and I fail to recall,
To say: “Your morning is sugar…” I feel small.
I scribble like a child, crafting odd verse,
Please overlook my confusion, do not curse.
Do not think anything has changed in my heart,
For when I do not say “I love you,” the truth’s a work of art.
If you arrive one day, clad in colors so bright,
Like the grass near lakes, dressed in green’s delight.
Your hair falls softly on your shoulders like ocean’s embrace,
Fashioning a night landscape scattered with stars in grace.
And your presence—beneath your blouse, so tender, so sweet—
Is like a dagger, an unexpectedly alluring treat.
I inhale my smoke deeply, sipping my inked well,
And drown in the ink’s depth while I dwell.
Do not proclaim I have lost feelings or my heart has regressed,
For in dreams, I create you as a goddess, blessed.
Your form, pearls of essence I nurture and sow,
Your hair becomes a garden, scented with warmth that will grow.
If I sit long before you, lost in your bliss,
It feels like a kingdom crafted from aromatic mist.
I close my eyes to your comforts, neglecting your divine call,
Yet do not doubt; in thoughts, I see you all.
Some subjects linger, whispering scents in shadows,
In the stillness, your fragrance sings as the night glows.
My love is deep, greater than mere affection’s chase,
Let me see you as I envision you in this space.
A Warm Greeting for Your Upcoming Morning
The poet Al-Arjani shares:
Welcome to your face from tomorrow’s dawn,
And the generous hands from the clouds of yawn.
As the morning accompanies the clouds so bright,
Together, they walk towards my home’s light.
It rejoiced, and every formerly dark place,
Shone with renewed vibrance, a fertile space.
Tell the eyes and lips of humanity around,
When it appeared like a joyous cloud, unbound.
Happiness beams from your forehead; behold it shine,
And the bliss rests on the right hand, tender yet divine.
Did you see the lightning among five billowy clouds?
Streaking beautifully across the desire’s loud.
Except for the faith of humility that’s found,
Casting it forth to touch with gentle ground.
High upon the stars, firmly fixed in place,
For those who watch; adorned in lunar grace.
As it moved away, drawing closer to dreams with hope,
Had it not been for departure, how would we cope?
What if it was said, through the lens of pure sight,
A matter unjustly beset Hacham’s light?
Now it’s the resolution of two realms brought forth,
Striving forward, the fate wonders its worth.
As the earth settles for an everlasting floor,
Folk’s familiar dance welcomes joys at its core.
When you’ve gone, the spirit feels less whole,
Crafting trials, it gives life to mere soul.
You left Baghdad, where the sun begins to rise,
In the eyes of its dwellers lies the pathway so wise.
You’ve come with the holy month appearing in view,
Be joyful with a blessed fast’s journey anew.
Until you arrived with good fortunes on hand,
All trials before the sight began to disband.
Received from the moon reflects a profound glow,
In the sleepless wonder of the nights’ echo.
Banners appear, with your radiant face so bright,
Increasing light in the shadows of night.
They cast their gaze at you with tenderness and love,
From you, the eyes rose forth like stars from above.
They spread sweetness along the pathway you stroll,
In cherished love from the coming years unroll.
Mankind laid their gratitude at your shining feet,
In a gesture of thanks for the gifts so sweet.
If only creation could move with excitement untold,
With longing hearts attending your presence so bold.
They would walk towards you in a dance of heartfelt care,
With lightness, tracing paths with love’s gentle flair.
So may you rejoice in life’s gentle wind and tune,
May the people find solace in all that you’ll attune.
You who support the ancient house with pride’s glow,
Awaken the glory you’ve built, let it grow.
As long as there’s mention of your noble fame,
It remains bright on the day of the honored name.