Days empty of words

For my dear son, Arash

Days empty of words



I have nothing to do

With my hands

Except to weave words into words

And make a blanket

To cover my soul

And keep me away from a chaotic world

A world full of glamorous nothingness.


I stay away from a crowd

Making too much noise

For nothing

But I listen to a breeze

Whispering a love song

To a sparrow hatching her chicks.


Some say I’m melancholic

Weaving words into words

Dragging me to an abyss

Burying me alive

In the land of the gray dreams.


But this is me made of dreams

And my hands searching for words

Weaving words into words

To make a blanket

Covering me in cold days

Days empty of words.

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