Sigh
Mother tongue of the soul
a sigh needs no translation
universal breath
Past words
over their heads
quietly heard
noble air
Melancholy music
played by the spirit
on the harp strings
of the heart
Sighs escape
unguarded
Proofs of endurance
evidence of excess luggage
plaintive protests
wrapped in acceptance
wistful winds on wings
From the depths
to the heights
They hover in the air
rise and return
in the form of rain
when clouds sigh, in turn
and wash us clean, again
with their tears.
—y. Lababidi, author of Learning to Pray
