Salalah Poem by Aziz Alkaabi

Kneeling over
the tombstone
of his own grave,
He whispers eerie tunes.

Neglected in dungeons
in the grayish zones.

Trapped in misty places,
He swings,
Intricately, now!

Between life,
Between Hereafter.

Eying
from his vintage point,
A creative village.

In charming desolate peaks,
He roams,
Leading his outcasts.

Their souls snatched,
Twice.
Crowded they were
in dormant peaks.

Sleeping in ruins
and missing her dearly,
One sightly town.

Stretching her beaches,
ornamental chignons,
That hidden jewel.

The exotic port
of Salalah

North of the
mountain Samhan
Where mysterious caves.

Where sacred waves
rumbling on western shores
of mighty Arabian Sea.

A storehouse of trading routes,
They carried
Aladdin and Sin bad
in turtle shaped Dhows
to the isles of gold or spices.

He saw in one life
the Eastern bank.

A kingdom of Kerala,
The coasts of Malabar.

Where gods recessed,
After shaping their world.

Over expansive beaches,
They played their wildest games.

An Unruly province,
Namaste.
Wisdoms of half-naked
Indian Fakirs,
Namaste.

Once a summer day,
He went to pray
at her temple.

In Kanya-Kumari
A point of solitude.

Where three great seas
drift open one raging ambit.

Where The Mahatma
sat bewildered,
Half-defeated one day.

There,
In Kanya Kumari.

She had been waiting,
She had been aching
a marriage,
Never solemnized.

Who cares
Lovely princess?

If wedding feasts are raw.
Wedding feasts,
Forbidden.

We are both hostages
Kanya Kumari!

So, let us explore higher seas,
Chase fishermen,
Ride violent waves,
of this Arabian Sea.

A kingdom of Kerala,
The coasts of Malabar,
Adventures of Aladdin
to the island of Zanzibar.

To submerged islands.
Seeking hidden treasures in caves.
Waiting for Ali Baba or Ali-Boss.

All the way
to a golden coast
of old noble men,

Who sought their dens back
and gave away a rusty cage.

Oh yes,
He is reflecting,
When passive his age.

Smiling,
He wonders,
How life dreams
can sometimes,
Be swept asunder.