(c) 2008 Manoucher Parvin
"O, my shy teardrop,
Do you feel the invisible barbed wires
Tightening around the visible me?
Comfort me.
Come into being.
Tell being
How harsh it is to breathe without love
And weep without tears."

I hear a teardrop, a voice,
From the lips of unnamed oceans
From the lips of undated times
Journeying to me
From before names and dates were invented.

"You have forgotten to remember me, Parvin,
It has been a long time since you have wept."

"True, how true.
But I will never forget you again, my teardrop.
Let me see you, let me hear you,
My liquid pearl.
Let me touch you, taste you,
Be comforted by your sweet saltiness."

"I will come to you,
But first listen to my tale, to my dardedel."

"My ears are waiting for you,
Just as my eyes are waiting for you."

"I was lost in a poisoned ocean,
That struggled not to sleep for the first time,
And struggled not to sleep for the last time.
The ocean that carries grief and joy
On its broad shoulder waves.

One day sunrays lifted me up,
Gently, like a baby,
And placed me on a white sail,
Of a cloud,
With other teardrops.
We spoke of separations,
Of interruptions,
And reincarnations
As we toured the sky.
Then a thunderbolt tore into us,
Scattered us,
Throwing us whirling down to earth
And smashing us
Against the toxic and cruel earth.

I felt as if I was the teardrop of a star
Witnessing and weeping
For the tragedies on earth mounting up.

People, trees, and elephants
Even stars and stones need to weep
No matter how tender, strong, big
Or distant, or hard they are

Because being is rough
Because we are babies of fate.

And fate is harsh.
And God is harsh.

So we were gobbled up by the earth.
I hid myself inside the ruby seed
Of a pregnant pomegranate.
You love pomegranates,
So you found me, Parvin.

Yes, that's me - always a teardrop
In different reincarnations.
I am there to grieve with
And I am there to rejoice with,
To weep on finding love,
To weep on losing love,
For you to weep for being
Who you wish not to be.
For you to wish the world
To be what it is not.
Here I come, Parvin,
Weep for me too."
Excerpt from Manoucher's
upcoming book of poetry titled:

Cosmological Accent.
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