For some time now I have been trying to write or find within my soul a perfect poem…A poem that will came solely from deep within me. My soul touch base with my intuition; it had deprived me then to reach the pick of artistry in myself. I kept searching hard through the walls of my being and it was so blank. My walls were so blank, colorless. It just looked that it is a mist; the perfect description of it is pure white clouds. Am I contradicting myself over here by stating that the walls within me are colorless then I describe it as pure white clouds? White for many is considered a color but for me white is an organic form of color. It’s not been blotched with any external colors, which is how my walls are. Its in organic form, it does not carry with it any language, silence is the voice. It happened to be a very loud voice. As I stare in, sinking into these silent clouds. It feels that my soul is on a rebirth. It gives me peace beyond any description of words. I describe the status of peace a magnificent poetry, a gift that could only be given to a soul that is discarded form all its tangible forms.
2005. nasra al adawi