I heard that you are coming.
I whispered to the earth,
It brought the sea's cradle to a halt.
I whispered to the wind, It curled to itself,
And sky chained it to the clouds.
I whispered to the leaves,
They spiraled around the sparrows' chirping beaks.
I whispered to silence,
The nature's noble lady was carpeted under your feet.
All went silent, except my ticking heart.
I dreaded my galloping heart disheartened your feet.
The door tilted....
You flicked the balloon of wind,
The chains unleashed.
The leaves unlatched.
The playful sparrows swirled before the wind,
dancing and chirping.
As if, concurrently, the whole world raised their glasses,
And made a toast.
You rocked the cradle of the dormant sea,
Its paws erupted,
And the wave's blade thrust at the cliff.
I heard the cliff's sigh of passion.
Just, I was left out.
My ticking heart was hushed,
And you said:
Maryam Bahraminejad writes: "I have MA in English literature, and work as an English instructor. I write poems and short stories in Persian, English, and Turkish. My story, 'White Roses and Prune Stew', has appeared in eFiction Magazine. I have a collection of poetry which is going to be published by Arna Press within next two months. I also write articles on critical theories and postmodern American Literature. I voraciously read literary, philosophical, mythological and mystical works, and extensively write poems and short stories."