Crystal Stone

For all the faces of a crystal
They are all made of stones
Conserving its sacred essential
In many dimensions and tones
Inside mountain bones
Under the laws of heat
On lands and in all seas
So wherever it lays, its gleam will greet
Like fruits of bliss found on trees
For the beauty it admits, pleases all it sees
As a crystal holds protection
And from Earth’s essence it stems
Through the journey of compression
Producing life with gems
That comply to ancient tastes, and to all modern trends
Gems are gifts indeed
Out of Earth’s crystal seed

Poem by Farah A.Y

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The Arion Voyage

Blanket of winds among the sparkling glints, shining

Where stars and clouds around the moon, flowing

On voyage to a land beyond the sky

With a mighty Arion steering us so high

While the wine on our lips, dried by the wind

For the horse is swift and from both sides, winged

As we reached the land, striding our way inside

There stood a castle, with gardens on each side

Behind the trees, we move around to peek

With one thing in mind; is to play hide and seek

Throughout this play we did not speak

In search for each other, we got lost in the maze

Amid the grass, we started out the chase

But it all seemed as though an unfolding plan

When soon into each other we finally ran

Poem by Farah A.Y

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Space Family

As life formation began in space, with theory of relativity to put it all in place
From Mercury to Neptune, in opposite ways
Running circles in an endless race
As each has a separate phase
Of various states, weights, and rates
More like siblings, relatives, and mates
Grounded by the holy Sun’s grace;
With a Moon celebrating Earth’s face
Inspiring the night as it sings and plays
To evoke the essence of all Earth’s waves
Like emotions, weathers, nights and days
The family of space recites all fates
abiding to the law of time and dates
As space history to time relates
In the Milky Way of our Earth’s case

Poetry by Farah A.Y

Space Family

I will share my belief on what a space family is:

Since the Sun of our Solar system is the source of life, the igniter, the stabilizing force of life. in other words, the father of our solar system, it is the light that we are in constant need of reaching, and achieving throughout our life’s endeavors. This has been the case since ancient philosophies and civilizations; stating that the Sun is the source of life, a Devine power—a deity.

Earth is not a lonely planet. Earth has siblings, and relatives. There is a whole history (tree) of planetary family in the vast space.

The moon is equivalent to the mother figure. A source of inspiration, that stirs up the essence of life’s waves, causing change, birth and rebirth. The moon is the mother of our earth; she watches over the earth at night, and she controls the Earth’s cries through its influence on sea and ocean tides.

The other planets surrounding the Earth are important in keeping each other in balance. As siblings proving support for one another.

The story of our Universe is the story of our lives. We are only replicating the stories decoded in our genes out into our visible world . We are designed to do it in that sense. Besides the Darwinian Theory, which adds to making us social beings.

Thank you!

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The Flying Saucer

I wonder what goes inside a flying saucer…
I doubt it’s all just mere buttons to press..
What if it’s led, from a distance far ahead?
Like an eye flying over our heads..

Scanning our thoughts like a needle, whose eye is accessed with a thread
For our earth is diverse and not feeble
Which inspires distant worlds to infest

And our oceans are rich with information
Which may be clues from those guests
Are they around us, but invisible to see?
Living among us, in an indulgent of spree?

They could be within us, but who knows who they may be
As we all are but visitors on this planet of the sea
Yet there will always be an opportunity
To dive more into a celestial foresee

Poetry by Farah A.Y

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Journey of the Soul of a Pearl

The soul’s engulfment in the shell of life

Brings to mind a wall of stones;

The toughness of its surface, the finesse of its core

For pearl is sheltered through its dismay of strife

The journey of a pearl begins on a sandy dune

Where castles and realms are built around its shore

With chambers that trail ancient footsteps

Such beauty to admire in a myriad of tones

Hence lessons to aspire; and to kindle the lore

Of filtrated ruins, amid bygone sea steps

With gentle recitals of stories untold

By sirens enticing love and lure

In the heart of every wandering soul

As the journey of life is one and for all

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The Mindspin

I thought I was still good at stretching down my legs, to their maximum capacity. I know I could when I was around the age of eight. But, not any more. It has certainly advanced, well, into a mental stretch that takes in the form of a spin. It no longer involves my body, only my mind. And, I kept feeding into this quality, many different things. I say things; because they are indeed, only just things.

This baseline of my experience is the pole that sets the stage for my mental dance. Like a Ballerina who is anxiously happy during the continuous clapping of an audience over her victory. Or, in the way a piece of chocolate dissolves so sweetly in my mouth, while my tongue cradles this sweet taste. For when the piece is there, it only requires me to situate it correctly.

And in between every other hour, life destroys that flavor. It isn’t really life, but it’s what makes life, life. Which diminishes the sweetness eventually. That is, mostly to do with, other worldly rotations taking place in the form of becoming, or in the process of walking down the path of familiarity; a road often taken, but very little understood.

In some mornings, reality is as atrocious as feeling suspended from the motion of life, of existence, and of the circulation of the biological forces within the body. Leaving it to reality to make it up for the mind; for why should we spin along the rotation of our earth (unconsciously) while mentally spinning in our heads (consciously and unconsciously), is not always a helpful thing?’

Aren’t we but thoughts roaming around on this earth? Aren’t we made of lessons, experiences, and especially of feelings—to formalize and color such findings?

In other mornings, the mental spins of others are louder than the sound of one’s own breath. So much so that it infests like a spider’s web—that builds up slowly, yet orderly and tightly into each of our tranquil streams. As for me, when my siege gets broken, its scattered pieces become painful pins thrown at me and against my own will.

The only consistent aspect of it all is that we are but a bundle of a spinning life, a rotation within another rotation. In an endless loop of spinning thoughts. This mixture is vital for generating us with potentials that result from chaos and order. It is a never-ending process of rediscovering the question of ‘what could happen next?’

Throughout the nights, the mind is at refuge—peaceful but unpromising. hopeful, but undeniable of its long day of loss, joy, or trouble. But, what difference does it make when the night approaches? As the earth will still spin, and the dynamic of life will continue on. We must permit ourselves to blend in with ourselves first, colorfully, then apply that to our understandings of the complexity in both chaos and order. Also, by letting the infusion of these colliding forces set in, so that we could beget the brushes needed for our painted spins, and to submit to our inner life which is obeyed by the outer forces of life.

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