Fire

Fire is the star’s dreaming and the sun’s breathing, 
the earth to life.
Fire is the volcanoes seething,
as it spews forth its molten hate.
Fire is fury ravaging,
entire forests with its desire for revenge.
Fire is the warm blood of hope coursing,
in the river beneath our skin.
Fire is passion dancing,
between the lovers naked bodies.
Fire is what the walls of hell are made of.
Fire is the light of candles glowing,
in an altar full of blessed prayers.
Fire is the spark shining,
in the eyes of that one.
Fire is that protector,
in the dark night full of beasts out in the wild.
Fire is at once sacred and feared.
Fire warms the bread and sears the desert.
Within you sits a fire burning,
and what you choose to do with it,
is entirely upto you.

by SHENAZ WAHID

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The flame of love

I know them as boys who love to party, the adventure daredevils and renegades,
but tonight in the mountain, they show another side.

We sit by the fire on the moonlit terrace. Every one is perfectly silent watching the flame dance.
“What do you see?”, I ask.
“I can’t quite explain nor describe it.” says Pat who is most entranced by the flame and gleaming like a child to himself.
Z : “I see a woman dancing.”
Me : “It’s like love, ever- shifting, ever-changing, never the same.”
Gor puts in a few more twigs.
Z : “She’s right, it’s like love, you need to feed it to keep it alive.”
Gor : “The spark needs to be there in the first place, to keep it alive.
Without that initial spark, nothing can keep it alive.”

Every one and everything falls back into silence.
In the silence, I think it is the divine that ignites the spark between two souls, that indescribable thing called Love, no money can buy it, no person can dowse it & when it is found between two such people,
they become tenders to the sacred flame of Love;
that God first sparked.

Not a word is said. Everything is in the flow. The river beside us, the wine in our veins and we ourselves,
as the full moon watches.

by SHENAZWAHID

To God

God,
Thank you for giving me birth in a world full of beauty and full of agony.
One that only you understand, why you made it so.

Thank you for Love, and for the pain of hatred that teaches me Love’s worth.
Thank you for the sweetness of solitude, for the joy of company and for the aching loneliness that allows me to treasure both.

Thank you for the butterflies, mountains, fishes, oceans and trees.
Thank you for the friends I lost, ones I found and for those who stay through it all.
Thank you for the love I lost. Thank you for the love I found.
Thank you for those who come from nowhere, light a fire in my soul and change me forever in ways I couldn’t have done without them.
Thank you for those who make my heart cry without tears.

Thank you for my Angels and thank you for keeping me safe from the devils in my own mind.
Thank you for the moments of magic that turned into despair, and for the moments of despair that turned into magic.

Thank you for music and dance and for the deliciousness of silence. Thank you for the silence even when its loud.
Thank you for the joyous laughter. Thank you for the bitter tears.
Thank you for the sun and the moon. Thank you for the dark sky.
Thank you for light and thank you for the darkness, that gives the stars and moon a place to show themself.

Thank you for the moments I know myself, for those where I feel lost, and have a chance to find and be found.
Thank you for remembering me and thank you for forgetting all that I too must forget.

Thank you for those who understand who I am, for those who misunderstand and for those who couldn’t care less.
Thank you for all that I understand, and all that is far beyond me
in beauteous mystery’s womb.

Thank you for wisdom and insight and for my mistakes and folly.
Thank you for the nights of peace, and thank you for the restless sleepless nights.
Thank you for the mountains triumph. Thank you for failures abyss.
Thank you for the blessings, and for all that my foolish heart deemed as a curse.

Thank you for all that’s deep and for all that’s shallow in me, that needs digging.
Thank you for a mind that wants to turn moments into a story,
sometimes beautiful, sometimes frightful.
Thank you for words, without which I couldn’t tell any story.

Oh Thank you Dear God for the Dreams in my soul, for putting them there and thank you for all that is good and bad
that I will have to encounter along my journey’s length.
Thank you for what I know, for what I don’t, for what I will and for what I won’t.

Oh Thank you for People, both happy and sad as they make me. The ones who amaze and inspire, and the ones who hurt and confuse.
Thank you for keeping me company even when I don’t ask you to, and for never forsaking me even when I have myself
Thank you for all that has gone past me by, for now and for all that will be.

Thank you for magic and mystery, for revealing and hiding.
For all the funny contradictions of Life, the ecstasy and agony
one without which I wouldn’t know the other.

Thank you above all for LOVE
Thank you being a God of Love.

Thank you for it ALL.
Yours,
Shenaz

by SHENAZ WAHID

Lyra’s voice

Often what Lyra thought was Love, was just an excuse for the word.
Love as time went by, she found was far more than the definitions she had given it in her unknowing youth.

It was more than the romance of candlelight.
Yes that too was an expression of love, but it was also his shadow that fell upon her, on the night she was unwell.
It was the days of laughter and journeying into the beauty of the mountains.
Yes it was walking down the streets with joy upon their lips,
but it was also the days of confusion, pain and solitude where he stood by her silently, as she searched her own soul.

It was the days of celebration, drunken in love with wine laced lips,
of song and dance and love-making.
but it was also the days doing things completely wrong,
to find his forgiving arms embrace her at night.

It was the days spent learning all the good they had to offer each other,
dreaming dreams and igniting a fire in the soul of the other,
simply because of the courage love gave them,
but it was also the days of having hope together, when dreams seemed far away.

It was looking into each other eyes, seeing only what they could see, feeling only what they could feel.
It was kisses and fingers running through each other’s skin and hair.
But it was also the nights when the dark weakness in their soul prevailed,
and even though it hurt to find it,
it was the nights when he held Lyra’s hand to say a prayer to the God,
that had blessed them with this Love.

It was the blissful days spent by the window with the setting sun upon their gleaming eyes, her head on his chest beside the moon drenched waves,
time spent tasting love’s sweetness,
but it was also the nights of agony when Love seemed so confusing.
And yet he was always near.

by SHENAZ WAHID