‘Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.’ Rumi
Feather buoyant on aromous winds
Afloat like canoe sleeps on a quiet sea,
Aye, simmering tunes struggle against the weight,
The gait bears similarity to the newly broken colt
Or antelope in frightened leap before a lion.
Hide into the mane, dark clouds who hath seen,
Smelled springs and saffron from the hair’s touch
Hip’s upper curve, or on beat is the slow fall –
Like the closing band of the orchestra, magnificent
Lighter, the feet crosses on rainbow, it picks dew.
O girl, who art thou, that my eyes wide open
Dreams a loss, a wish unfulfilled, a-never seeing you.
-To an unknown Afghan girl seen dancing (attan) on a video.
Peshawar
October 7,2014.
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