. . .

In awe . . . incapable of articulating all the marvels my spirit has been dancing with . . .

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“sun-kissed”

beat
worn-out
from the heat and awe
waking up from a nap
on a couch in a hotel room
in Egypt on its Giza Plateau
facing the Pyramids
not staged by Hollywood but for real
no sight of the Sphinx
my eyes drooled over before
for i am lying flat and am still
the couch has no pillow-fill
my head might as well be on the ground
exhaustion keeps me from moving about

is this a postcard a dream or am i hallucinating

the wide wall-to-wall balcony window 
winks at me as instructed by the Sun
on a tray of bright and hot rays 
framed up by the bluest skies

the Pyramids tell me
my post-nap trance is here to stay
while i eye them intently intensely
in quest of an answer to the lure of their lore
nothing speaks back to me of course
all i know is in that which i see

i thus admit to myself
my newly-surfaced gut-instinct:
they may have been soaked by Man's sweat
but these inconceivable gifts to Earth
surely must have been touched at least once
by gods or goddesses of ancient times
or by the energy of their mightiest god's light

i stop to think and let it all be
while i hold on to my wits with all my might
for one thing is for sure:
this is being one hell of a ride

hülya n. yılmaz, 8.27.2018

 

 

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“sun-kissed”

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breathing in . . .

For this Wednesday’s “Impulses”, I am sharing you with you, dear reader, one of the most captivating sights I have been inhaling since my arrival at the Pyramids View Hotel on the Giza Plateau in Egypt . . .

20180827_181735.jpg

 

[Photo Credit: Self]

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“boys and soccer”

we just took a short walk
to the hotel across the Wall
a well-to-do tourist trap
with nothing at hand to impress
i had already inhaled the history
all the Graffiti Art represented
on that monument of collective shame
the entire land is a museum a gallery
bearing its all to the visiting-pure at heart
a gift shop? i can do without!
gifts are all around
the children's smiles 
their eager words of "Hello"
the warm embrace of their hearts

many boys are before my eyes now
they are playing all kinds of games on the street 
where our comfortable hotel is to be found
soccer catch-a-ball bike-tricks 
hesitant to look us in the eye at first
but in pure smiles a few minutes later
giggle-like laughs back from our end

how they move about at ease
as were all of their families' trials over
a tragic list of events on the walls of their homes
as profoundly etched in memory
as the Wall of collective shame 

oh humanity
why are you so deep asleep
while in bed
when awake as well
take down the walls
as only you can
open your eyes
stop seeing selectively
only united can we embrace ultimate love
not if we take sides electively 

oh humanity
take down all walls of collective shame
each of us needs love's image alone
in our souls' all-embracing precious frame
from this moment on to everyone's eternity


© hülya n. yılmaz (8.12.2018)

39121894_526846237766588_8435051547250917376_n.jpg

[Photo Credit: William S. Peters; Location: Bethlehem, Palestine]

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Yes, I have been inspired. Hence, MIA!

In the last few weeks , we have been through many Bedouin camps, breathtaking scenery of desert land, high mountains, deep deep deep valleys, and much more. As to be expected on a as nature-oriented of a journey as this one, to connect to the Internet often was simply out of the question. We have accumulated a considerable amount of photographs we, ourselves, have taken. I am here today, connected (!) to share a few of those with you, dear reader. The images, however, do not do justice in any means to the actual sights . . . Enjoy!

[Credit for the pictures: Self]

On desert roads and a camel ride in Petra, Jordan

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. . .

aren’t you afraid to go to those places?*

must i fear to live?
no, you say,
and even add: of course not!

why, then, should i deprive myself
from experiencing a loving embrace
in countries that enchant me
by people so beautiful inside and out
who despite my lack of their tongue
encircle me
accept me
show their desire
to understand me
unconditionally

was i afraid to journey here?
of course not! no!
whatever for?
love is here for all

© hülya n. yılmaz, August 8, 2018

[*This poem draft is an actual account of my experience back in the States. A pure-hearted dear one had asked me this question when I told her/him about my travel plans for the summer this year. As soon as s/he heard my destinations -Jordan, Palestine, Morocco, Tunisia, Macedonia and Kosovo, the above-quoted question popped up. The rest is . . . history, repeating itself: The fear of the unknown. May you live only love-filled, i.e. fearless days!]

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