Scarlet Heart

And I dreamt-

or I started to dream.

When you held me-

Or that was just my belief.

Well I dreamt to walk with you

In forgetfulness

On the seashore somewhere

In jangling crowd.

But the only sound that would

Hurl us will be of yours and mine


To be warmly saved in your arms,

To see the horizon kissing the sun.

To see the waves embracing shore

Will bring the scarlet hope

On my pale heart.

I dreamt, to see the light

Of the tired city.

Half asleep and half worrying

about insomnia.

I dreamt to touch

The old Budha’s sculpture

With your hands.

And to sit under Bodhi’s tree

Which belongs to Ashoka.

I wished (though it was a secret before

I wrote this poem)

To move my fingers on your face

With unseeing eyes.

To feel your deep-dark eyes,

Your unrest face

And screaming-barren lips.

With my touch I’d take away

The tumult of your heart

And there set you at peace.

I dreamt-

Oh I dreamt to take you on a boat

And hear the splash of water.

While the journey paves its way

I fill my black soul with

Warmth of yours.

Before this could have happened,

God’s angel woke up.

One whose cloak is red

And eyes are burning chambers.

The sky turned grey

And June became January.

It rained and rained

Until I couldn’t see you anymore.

Now leans above me is this sky.

Beyond that God sits and stares.

I ask about you and He stays silent.

I ask about me and He laughs.

If it’s a dream then wake me up.

But whom shall I ask this favor from?

-Huma Adnan


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