Dear Banu,
That spring
while dreaming among jasmines
no one knew our story yet
no one had heard our songs yet
but we were there
there was a melody that swept through us
simultaneously
with different words only
You told me about the moonlight you were struck with,
about the loosening of the loops,
between crickets and stardust.
a mother who could not breastfeed,
stolen lives
time in purgatory
you mentioned human
between earth and sky
what you say is a non-fitting.
You were looking for letters without envelopes and stamps
in that non-fitting
exhilarating feelings
in that place
hands we trust
and words that will spread wings to its owner in the sky of song.
I was younger
with the joy of geraniums overflowing in front of the windows
with a life that did not fit home
and like a girl who wants to be a postman
with a bunch of cloves on my tongue
I was flying to the same corner of the sky where I wrote.
Between vines and honeysuckles
I was writing poems at every height I climbed
I was leaving letters at the bottom of every rose tree I found.
A voice inside me,
couldn't take a huge sigh and wash it all away
maybe the movement of the mountains
maybe just a random slur to the world.
They said I was thinking with the heart of a dragon
but I was turning into jasmine in my dream
because we named the letters to songs,
we named not fitting into life.
When the first song was heard
the pomegranate of the heart had opened its first flower.
Together we saw the pollination of patience and enthusiasm
the color of passion and reproduction
more ways to go, more words to say
and the will of the music that gives wings to its words.
This morning
lilacs in a glass of water
an unquenchable desire
wakes me up
says "see"
Jasmines have covered the walls of the city again
"hear, look"
the smell of jasmine all over the streets
and although not everyone knows our story yet
our songs are still being sung
and face of time is again
flourishing love.
Eylem