The Earth is closing on us pushing us through the last passage and we tear off our limbs to pass through. The Earth is squeezing us. I wish we were its wheat so we could die and live again. I wish the Earth was our mother so she’d be kind to us. Where should we go after the last frontiers? Where should the birds fly after the last sky? Where should the plants sleep after the last breath of air? We will write our names with scarlet steam. We will cut off the hand of the song to be finished by our flesh. We will die here, here in the last passage. Here and here, our blood will plant its olive tree. - Mahmoud Darwish
We were all created in His image, and yet we were each created different and unique. No two people are alike. No two hearts beat to the same rhythm. If God had wanted everyone to be the same, He would have made it so. Therefore, disrespecting differences and imposing your thoughts on others is tantamount to disrespecting God’s holy scheme. - Shams Tabrizi
Alas. Tis a bit late now.
Preach on Shams! *Iraq was once a thriving home for many different communities. These unintentionally artistic portraits were captured by an American anthropologist in 1934. From left to right: A Dulaimi Arab, age 30. A Mandean Elder, age 50. A Kurdish Muslim, age 21. An Assyrian Christian, age 45. A Bedouin Man, age 45. A Kurdish Jew, age 35. A Mandaen Boy, age 16. A Yezidi Man, age 35.