Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Self Journey

Forest is wide
I’m lost within myself
Many trees are alike
2005, nasra al adawi

Some times we get confused in our life. We try to find the purpose of who we are, and we try to look deeper inside our soul. We stare into a vast journey, and yes at times the answers are not clear. We wish to get a helping hand while struggling to maintain a float. We find ourselves on the edge of not knowing who we are..
Talking and praying to God, writing, get a an innocent hug from a child, a swim in the sea or walk on the beach..
Yes these can be a therapy
We all need at once upon our life some type of therapy to our soul..
If you feel that way, do not deny yourself..
Do not let your soul drown, at times it pulls you deep under


Confusion is a phase
Where uncertainty gleams
I often belong in the claws of fate
Many decisions are not mine to make
Allowing time to take it’s feast out of me
As choices may swirl against my face
I just want to be a drifter of time
Retiring from my duties of life
As fate snatches the choices to live
I stand here with an effortless browse
This soul starts to numb, all consider me dead
2005, nasra al adawi
http://www.visionsofheaven.com/articles_docs/ARmasks.html (different point view on self healing, just for reading)

Monday, March 21, 2005

My African Lady

My African Lady

I take a glance at you
My African lady
Your skin is full of glow
The color of the mountain
Persistence in your fighting
Prevailing among all
You gaze beyond the distance reach
A symbol of determination
Your heart is the finest
A lioness in your soul

Ó2005, nasra al adawi

Wangari Maathai rose to prominence fighting for those most easily marginalised in Africa - poor women.
She is my African lady, she is the first African woman to win the Nobel Peace Prize in 2004 October . She has been praised by the awarding committee as "a source of inspiration for everyone in Africa fighting for sustainable development, democracy and peace".
To learn more about her fight and isnpiration, here is full interview

Dilemma .....Dilemma....Dilemma...Dilemma


Shattered in this distance

Destiny takes its own instance

Beyond the pleading tears

Beyond the rebelling heart

Love is like fire

Once it touches you, can't be left unhurt

Love is desire

Once it touches, you gladly fall in it's trap

Along comes your inner voice

Within your self, it's a dilemma

You want to hear God, in finding guidance

The desires in you

Are nothing but demons pulls you back

Copyright 2005, nasra al adawi

Saturday, March 19, 2005

It Suppose to be Haiku

Tears of grief
Mother tree abandonment
A falling leaf

copyright 2005, iamnasra

Monday, March 14, 2005

My Phaze of Drakness

My Phase of Darkness

I hope my phase of darkness will be a story of the past
And gain wisdom to enlighten my path
I’m knocked through the corners of life
To truly seek, it is not an easy climb
In anticipation for the best quality of me to remain within me
Living, it is not merely about existence- creating the person within one self is a continuous fight
With such aspiration, I pray that I don’t loose this sight
Sometimes darkness creeps on the vulnerable hearts
The battle is over, I resisted with all my soul might

I wrote this poem after I read a poetess called Patty, her poem was really touching poem

Sunday, March 13, 2005

Ocean of Confusion

It is no sin to get confused in the middle of your search - it happens to all of us. ...

A qoute that I found in one of the website
I feel sooooooooo confused at times....Im in search for a therapy for my soul ....I will try to update this as soon as I get the information on how to clear self confusion

Ocean of confusion

Tied by my hands
Like an ocean of sands
Remaining in my distortion
I’m an ocean of confusion
Destiny is the wind
Sweeping grains of sand
Carrying it to unknown destination
Destiny sweeps me beyond my existing plan
Facing the current, I stand as defenseless man
Standing on the fork of roads
My hesitation is broad
I’m an ocean of confusion
Wish it was a desert delusion
So it can be a reason to rouse from this surreal
How disheartening that my confusion is real
Running after, what could be an eternal self rescue?
Or to remain a dilemma, framed in an inner fresco
Copyright 2005, nasra al adawi

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Im Down Syndrome Child

This is maybe so different for some...Having been related to a beautiful down syndrome child...three of them ....I Just have a smile when I ever I recall one of them ....You do not see children with special needs on play ground or being taken out with parents...once it happens...people tend to stare....I worte this poem long time ago, I did change it a bit for its first form...

"Down sydrome children they are so loving and happy children" thats my qoute....

Im Down Syndrome Child

No one else but me
Had been stared at
Like a starnger on earth
They look at me worried and afraid
I smile and they hold back
Are they frighten of me?
Or is it who I am?
A downsydrome child
I reach for their love
I find none
I wonder if Im real or deviant on earth
In their polite silence, Im rejected
So I am a down syndrome but still need your affection
copyright 1993, nasra al adawi

I also found this website about parents who have down syndrome child
You will really be touched ....

Here is a poem that I found in website..its amazing poem and I think its should be here

My face maybe different
But my feelings the same
I laugh and I cry
And I take pride in my gains
I was sent here among you
To teach you love
As God in the heavens
Looks down from above
To Him I'm no different
His loves knows no bounds
It's cities and towns
That judge me by standards
That man has imparted
But this family I've chosen
Will help me get started
For I'm one of the specail children
So specail and few
That came here to learn
The same lessons as you
That love is acceptance
It must come from the heart
We all have the same purpose
Though not all the start
The Lord gave me life
To live and embrace
And I'll do it as you
But at my own pace.

I found this poem by an unkown auhtor here the source

Here is another website with touching poem on children with down syndrome

My Perfect Child
by Anonymous

As my children were born,
I wanted them to be perfect.

When they were babies,
I wanted them to smile and be content playing with their toys.

I wanted them to be happy and
to laugh continually instead of crying and being demanding.
I wanted them to see the beautiful side of life.

As they grew older,
I wanted them to be giving instead of selfish.
I wanted them to skip the terrible twos.
I wanted them to stay innocent forever.

As they became teen-agers,
I wanted them to be obedient and not rebellious,
mannerly and not mouthy.
I wanted them to be full of love,
gentle and kind-hearted.
"Oh, God, give me a child like this" was often my prayer.

One day He did.
Some call him handicapped... I call him Perfect!!

Sunday, March 06, 2005

My Final View ....My Final View ...My Final View ...My Final View

The rain little by little drizzled on me
It continued raining on me,
Yet it did not stop me taking that path
Reaching to that deserted place
My heart ached with pain
I insisted for my soul to watch the scene again
Countless raindrops covered this window
Nothing will deter me to take this final view
I stared in to us
Tangled in love scene
Love seemed to scream beyond our silence
I wanted to break free from my lustful madness
You reached out for me chaining me in romance
I searched in your eyes for some reassurance
You insisted that this is the moment where our souls unite
My eyes pleaded you –lost between pain and lustful aches
I knew at that time, my soul was on its final scarifies
The pinch of love had strike through my soul
As I stared through the episode of my life
Deep down I knew, I will never go back to who I was
I will remain a soul without mended flaws

2005, nasra al adawi

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Soul Poetry

Soul Poetry

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