Forty Letters To A Woman – Third Letter – Poem by Atef Ayadi

You were the harpist
At the gate of heaven.
I was about crossing that gate
when we first met.

I never though,
felt, or captured your inner songs
that flew with the harp melody
until I left heaven from the other gate.

I never knew
that your were the first picture
and the last sound of heaven
until I left it.

What remains
now in
my deepest memories
an ancient question
- and that is
what I try to get rid of: -

What makes heaven
heaven?
is it a melody,
a woman's melody at the gate of heaven,
or the silent melody in a woman eyes?