My eyes are speechless, my words cannot shed a tear and my ears don’t feel anything. My world is confused. Where are you? I am knocking on the wall hoping that someone on the other side will respond. But the exhaustion is taking over my body and mind, for there has never been a single word spoken or a scream in which I can recognize your voice. It is always mind-numbing silent.
Now look at me! Look at me and describe the man that is standing right in front of you. I have become a walking museum on earth. Deep secrets have been living and surviving for decades, here inside my chest. No one knows these inner conversations that I have been struggling with my whole life. Except for the one God who created me. He knows what was and what is yet to be, and what is not to be. And He knows how it will be, if it is to be.
My son, I miss you. This man is getting old. I wonder if there is anyone out there who can bring you to me. So I can see your eyes, so I can enjoy your smile, so I can hug you like in those good old times. Until that time it is the olive tree that accompanies me. It is somehow surrounded by an extraordinary calm atmosphere that enters my soul in a delicate way. It speaks the language of hope and patience. The olives that it produces are full of taste and full of power, you can see it, you can smell it. I call it the purity among the impurities, because it never lies.
God knows if I will see you again in the future. I don’t know what roadways you’re taking nor do I know what struggles you face. I wish I could be there for you, right in front of you, next to you or behind you, wherever you need me. But these bricks managed to create a strong impermeable wall that is standing between me and you.
You mustn’t forget, however, that the only true connection is the connection of the heart. People can build houses, walls, roadways and cities – but these will never hinder that connection. Whatever on earth is maintained and cherished within the heart will never die. Whoever lives in my heart will never die. My son, you will never die. I keep your story here inside.
Geschreven door Rabab: www.heartmadenarratives.wordpress.com