Cecile Sarruf 😬

  • published Aleppo in BLOG 2018-07-17 13:52:16 -0700

    Aleppo

    allepo.jpg

    Everything is dying: the cats,the  dogs --- the people. Only birds live because they have the sky. Where there are entryways, there are stones. Walls are wretched gaping mouths to potential enemy lines. It was a sniper that got my sister and struck my mother, picked them out as they ran with water for the thirsty in their hands. Is this what fate looks like? The bus is on loan from the king of Jordan. He would not send his men, but he would send a bus for the thousands fleeing. I board the bus and take a seat in the middle, in case it blows up at the front or back. My brother Adel is racing down the street. Don’t leave me, he is yelling, his face caked with dirt and blood. He is all I have left. In his hands he holds a bag of bread. Women lay over rubble in their thobes like dead moths. Silence catches its breath between the sting of bombs that hit my heart.

    I used to love lamp light; the moon of the studious in university windows overlooking commerce and industry. I used to admire prophet like professors anointing the ignorant with prose of peace. Why do we leave? Because we must, if we wish to put our eyes on the heavens and claim a spot to call our own on this earth. I want to live. I want children to remind me of what happiness and joy sounds like because in these wars, we are robbed of everything, but hope.


  • published Reflections 2018-11-19 15:51:36 -0800

    July 31, 2020
    Contact: Bushra Khan-Haroon

    Some have said that of these charming three One was Asiya of moonlike face, One was Lady Mary without doubt, And the third a angelic beautiful. Then these moonfaced three drew gently near And they greeted me with kindness here; Then they sat around me, and they gave The good tidings of Muhammad’s birth; Said to me: “A son like this your son Has not come since God has made this world, And the Mighty One did never grant Such a lovely son as will be yours.

    You have found great happiness, O dear for from you that virtuous one is born! He that comes is King of Knowledge high, Is the mine of gnosis and tawhid [monotheism].
    For the love of him the sky revolves, Men and jinn are longing for his face. 
    This night is the night that he, so pure Will suffuse the worlds with radiant light! This night, earth becomes a Paradise, This night God shows mercy to the world. This night those with heart are filled with joy, This night gives the lovers a new life. Mercy for the worlds is Mustafa, Sinners’ intercessors: Mustafa!’”


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