Short Beds

Short Beds

 

They grew up together, four brothers, but they were actually one

Four bodies, four names, but one soul

They shared everything: thoughts, feelings, food, but above all

They shared love

True love, not only words, love that was manifested in everything they shared

They played ping-pong, arm wrestling, and they played ball

They slept in the same room, shared the same bathroom, they were all tall

The beds were short, so they had to bend, but they didn’t mind; as they were together

Who would bother, whether the bed was short, or the room had no curtains, for love was the matter

It united them, made them one; at the heart, they were always together

Money? What is money? For them, it was only a thing to share, like supper

None of them cared, or even gave a little thought; to where the money came from

Or where it went, it’s only a thing they shared, maybe enjoyed, but didn’t at all bother

The years flew by; the four brothers became grown-up men, but not together!

Something’s changed, one of them wondered! Aren’t we still brothers?

Can’t we still share everything, especially love? Can’t we still look after each other?

An answer came: rigid, empty and sore:

No! That was then. Now we have to submit to a new reality, altogether

Everything must be calculated, what we can’t fit in the new reality, we simply throw away

Even love? The first brother asked: I wonder!

Love does not obey any reality. Love is the reality

Is it hard to calculate? Is it hard to measure?

What you don’t see, my brothers, is much bigger

It’s there, if you just open your hearts, you can see it; it’s in the flower

The trees, the grass, the mountains, the air, and the river

Open your heart, stop thinking about the rigid, fake reality, it’s only an illusion

A distraction from the true reality; which defies calculations, numbers, and temporary power

Once you submit to that true reality, the pure love that starts with the love of The One and Only God

You see things differently, your eyes become sharper, your soul is higher, and your face is brighter

Material stuff, including money, starts pouring at your feet, as you become bigger and bigger

Than life itself, you realize that the whole universe was created for you, if you really ponder

But if you keep your head in the mud, worrying about the economy, the budget, the numbers

You get what you focus on day and night; you get what you are worried about

Poverty, limitations, and bad relations

Don’t expect love anymore, you’ve lost the means of love forever

You’ve lost the opportunity to grow, to care, to share, and to prosper

Prosperity is not measured by numbers; it’s being able to re-love those you once loved

Of gaining the love of those you’d wanted to love you forever

 The sad thing is: It’s not reversible

A deep wound can’t be healed; forgiveness is difficult to get from those you have wounded

While you had been busy counting the numbers, stacking the material, aiming for higher

Profits, customers, market share, expansion, fake growth, budgets, and few other

There are things money can’t buy, and those money can buy are cursed to perish

The most important things in this short life are free, available, in abundance; all you have to do is look inside

Be true to your inner being, don’t lie to yourself. The inner stage accepts only full honesty, no matter

How you polish your outer ‘personality’ before the people. Remember: they are only people; worry and suffer

Just like you, but if only you open your God-given Heart

You Will Definitely See, Live, and Die Better

 

Early Eagle: A Brother

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About The Soaring Eagle

Entrepreneur, Investor, Solution Architect, Award-winning poet, Published author
This entry was posted in Love. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Short Beds

  1. سيرين says:

    كيف يحفظ الحب؟
    وهل لابد من طرف يضحي أكثر؟
    أظن ذلك
    يتمنى أغلبنا العيش بهذه الشفافية والمشاعر الصادقة.. لكن الحياة صعبة جداً
    جدا
    وجدت نفسي مع السنوات أقوقع مشاعري في ركن أمين
    أحاول ألا أدعه يعرقل عجلة الحياة التي لا ترحم
    وبين حين وآخر
    أعود إلى ركني
    أنفض عنه الغبار
    وأضيف عليه
    وأودعه إلى أجل
    اللهم لا عيش إلا عيش الآخرة
    فكن مع الشعراءالمهاجرة
    🙂

    • EarlyEagle1 says:

      Hunada has an excellent comment on how to preserve love, you may want to read it under the “Broken Heart” poem.

      I’m against compromise, in anything, especially love and happiness. If one of the parties has to scarify to keep ‘the wheel of life rolling’, then that’s not love.

      Love is a noun and a verb. To enjoy the noun, we must practice the verb. We must water the tree of love and protect it everyday…

      Don’t hide your emotions in a ‘safe corner’! If they are good emotions, enjoy them with your loved ones. If they are hurting, tight, or generally negative, then let them go! Emotions and feelings are just energy, they are not You! Visit http://www.sedona.com. It’s the best method out there to release negative emotions.

      This life is a passage to the real life. That’s true, but it’s not meant to be miserable. Those who wake up to this fact face a lot of resistance. Did you read the ‘Stranger’? It’s both internal and external resistance. Let go of the internal resistance Face the external resistance if you feel ready to, but don’t fight it. Resistance get stronger when we fight it, like water!

      Early Eagle

  2. salma says:

    Dad: Your English poems are becoming more elaborate.

  3. Abdullah says:

    No comments on this post yet? 🙂

      • Abdullah says:

        وَمَن يَتَّقِ ٱللَّهَ يَجۡعَل لَّهُ ۥ مَخۡرَجً۬ا وَيَرۡزُقۡهُ مِنۡ حَيۡثُ لَا يَحۡتَسِبُ‌ۚ وَمَن يَتَوَكَّلۡ عَلَى ٱللَّهِ فَهُوَ حَسۡبُهُ ۥۤ‌ۚ إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ بَـٰلِغُ أَمۡرِهِۦ‌ۚ قَدۡ جَعَلَ ٱللَّهُ لِكُلِّ شَىۡءٍ۬ قَدۡرً۬ا

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