“for he too is a dreamer”

i think of minarets
and how they douse the earth with fire
while you swing from crooked branches
ever sweet
in your marshmallow-white attire
so calm is your brightly scented vision
a hint of licorice lingering
just beyond your emerald gaze
as you travel through the market
seeking out the gathering
passing moments of ephemeral joy
while the little girls
in their little dresses
place morning flowers in your hair
they bend and sway
like young poplars in the sun
but just as quickly they are gone
back to homes and mothers
and as they vanish freely
like a hungry broken heartache
you wonder how they live
how their courtyard waters flow
and you imagine yourself with them
reading stories by the lamplight
but this is not to be
for your destiny lies elsewhere
though so far it does elude you
like a fairytale casting strangers
you hope to meet with your desire
before the moonbeams burst and fire
and though i cannot tell you
who sings out from that spire
i simply must inform you
there is a man amongst the shadows
he is made of broken light
and even now he is searching wildly
wishing nothing more than to catch your sight
for he too is a dreamer
wondering long into the night
and one day he will find you
and in his arms will hold you tight

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 4/30/13

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