The rainbow that flatlined

Was she supposed to feel hope when she saw the rainbow filling the sky?
It was almost a perfect circle of soft colors, exactly as her science teacher once told her...
She couldn't deny its beauty, she couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised...
But she wanted to feel hope...
She wanted this rainbow to be her signal that all will be perfect soon...
She kept looking at it, maybe the feeling is there but she needs to give it time...
No...Nothing...It was just a beautiful rainbow...
No matter how hard she looked into herself there was not that glint of passionate hope that would have made her heart skip a beat...
The beats were normal, dull even...
It seems that her feelings flatlined...
She's devoid of all grandiose emotions...
It has become monotonous sober uninspiring daylight for her...
She looked at the rainbow one last time...
Then turned her back to it, and ran away...
And erected her walls again, higher, harsher...
She didn't want to feel anymore disappointments...
It was OK to flatline, for there was no point in climbing that hill then falling off the cliff...
It's fine to keep her feet on the solid surface of cold reason...
There's no problem with her days becoming a succession of innocuous mundane minutes...
Passion doesn't pay off, and no one will care how sincere it is...
So she let the dull rain extinguish it...
It is OK to not have hope...

أحلام فضّية

نظرت تلك المرأة إلى القمر في صفحة السماء

لم يكن مكتمل البهاء، لكنه أسبغ من بهائه المنقوص على الأمواج الغاضبة

أطيافاً من الأحلام الفضّية البرّاقة

صارت تراقب كل موجة و هي تختطف حلماً و تجري به إلى الشاطئ

هاربةً من أمواج تلاحقها

تتخيل أنّ في الشاطئ أحضاناً ستنقذها و تحتويها

كأن تحرّرها سيبدأ من ذاك الشاطئ

لكنّ الصخور الجامدة لا تلينها ستائر الضوء المنسدلة

لا تحتضن الأمواج إلا لتسرق منها الأحلام و تحطّمها

ترتدّ الموجات المنكسرة تصرخ أن الشاطئ حضنٌ خادع

و تضيع الصرخات بين هدير أمواجٍ أخرى متأمّلةٍ في الفوز بقطْعةٍ من الحلم

بقطْعةٍ من القمر

مصيرٌ بائسٌ ترمقه المرأة و يرمقه القمر بلا حيلة

لكنّه لا يبخل ببهاء الضوء الفضّي البرّاق

فلعلّ موجةً يتيمةً تنجح في أن تهربَ بحلم

تختبئ به في شاطئ بلا صخور

بلا أشلاء أحلامٍ من الماضي

أدارت المرأة ظهرها للموج و الشاطئ و القمر

و لم تمد يديها لتسرق هي الأخرى من أشعة القمر الفضّية

فالعالم الذي تعيش فيه لا يفهم العملات الفضّية

و نفضت عن ظهرها الأحلام

لا وقت للأحلام

The sounds of the ocean

I sleep every night on the sounds of the ocean...
Sometimes, the waves touch me gently,
Taking away tears of sheer exhaustion,
Bringing me smells, seashells, hidden secrets in ancient bottles...
Sometimes they hit me so hard, so brutally,
I want to cry, to scream until my soul hurts,
Until I become a void,
And my voice becomes broken bits...
The ocean hits, blows, then comforts, then gets anxious and pleading...
It becomes an addiction to argue with it...
Once, so far away in time, when I was somewhat innocent,
I gave my sandals to the ocean,
So that it'll wash them for me and then bring them back...
I truly trusted the ocean to give me back what belonged to me,
For why would it want to take it away?
What will the ocean use a pair of sandals for?
And what will the waves use a soul's naive hopes and dreams for?
Mother then told me that was stupid; the ocean doesn't bring back things...
They just float away over the faces of the waves,
Touched ever so lightly by the rays of the sun,
And dissolved into the bits and pieces of nothings...
But I got my sandals back as I wanted!
Sometimes the ocean can come back to you!
It was a wonder how my heart lost its beat in a moment,
Only to leap with relief a second later...
It was such a precise and defining moment!
But will the ocean bring back innocent hopes? Morning dreams? Dusk breezes?
Will the sun be gentle to them and not burn them into drops of fading light?
I never again trusted the ocean to bring me things,
And I tried hard to never throw things to the ocean...
Maybe I can throw my letters to the ocean,
Not for them to come back, but for them to travel so far away,
And hug a distant moon...
And maybe, just maybe, I can throw my black heart to the waves,
So they'll clean it like they did my sandals,
And bring it back to me, a whole void seashell...