Friday, 21 March 2014

A Hermit Life For Me

My imagination has been a seashell brimming with nostalgic memories of the sea...

And time spent on top of a lonely rock anticipating sunrise and contemplating sunset..

And dreaming...

Of a house on my back

And words made beautiful by Mary Oliver

Once I looked inside
of a shell folded like a pastry
and there was a fancy face—

or almost a face—
it turned away
and frisked up its brawny forearms

against the light
and my looking in
I scarcely had time to see it,

Under the pure white roof
of old calcium
When I set it down, it hurried
Along the tideline

of the sea,
which was slashing along as usual,
shouting and hissing
toward the future

turning its back
with every tide on the past,
leaving the shore littered
every morning

with more ornaments of death—
what a pearly rubble
From which to choose a house
like a white flower—

and what a rebellion
to leap into it
and hold on,
connecting everything,

the past to the future—
which is of course the miracle—
which is the only argument there is
against the sea

~Mary Oliver  -  House of Light


  1. A perfect illustration to Miss Oliver's lovely poem!

    1. Thank you, Ramona.. I find myself at loss sometimes at the magic captured by her beautifully woven words.

  2. How wonderful! I love the expression of the boy! A little crab boy with lots of shells on his head! So imaginative! The photos of coast are dreamy and beautiful! : )

    1. Thank you, Midori :) I'm happy you like him, as for the photos, they were taking from the shores of Dahab, a beautiful Bedouin village where I used to live.. I think you would love it maybe as much as I do...

  3. Just beautiful, Hussam. I wonder if all of us sometimes have that urge to crawl inside a cosy shell, or at least, to find solace in a little stone hut by the sea, and, just for a little while, escape from it all!

    1. I often feel the same way and if not in a cosy shell or a hut by the sea I crawl into my imagination to find solace and bring clarity into the moment