The wrinkles at the corner of my eyes
can tell many stories.
I am old you see, very old,
older than the faded carpet I sit on.
My eyes are deep.
They contain the secrets of alchemists
and infinite horizons of dazzling colours.
I come in peace, always in peace.
I am wrapped in the colours of the desert
and offer a cup of saffron tea
to the ones who visit me.
When it touches their lips,
it turns into wine.
I speak the universal language of the reed,
the one of a thousand smiles.
And I like to wrap each smile
very carefully in words of poetry.
I then offer them to the ones
who have embraced roses.
I know the thorns penetrated their skin,
I have my own scars.
Please accept my offering.


Music: Ney by Ostad Hassan Kasaie استاد حسن کسایی (Iran, 1928-2012).

12 thoughts on “Offering”

  1. This is so beautiful and tender. I can feel the lines in my heart. Thank you for sharing them, sweet Kenza. You are precious – as are the wrinkles, the saffron tea, the carpet – everything in between and beyond. Salaam. 💕

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautifully written, Kenza! Tender and bittersweet because this is the beauty of someone’s marvelous offering, someone so wise who also wears life’s scars.
    Love this:
    “And I like to wrap each smile
    very carefully in words of poetry.”

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh, such a sweet and simple offering…may I be worthy of accepting it…to embrace the rose with its hidden thorns. Surely the tea will turn to wine in the sharing. Thank you for these moving words, dear Kenza, Blessings and Salaam to you! *smiling heart*

    Liked by 1 person

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