Lucidity in the Haze

by Ali Ghafoor

There are few things as profound
As feeling your own pulse

How often do we forget
that we live
while we live

Yet isn’t it nice to remember
that breathing too, can be voluntary
if you but think of it.

a strange paradox, no?
That such a vital function
is executed without your thought
with nothing more than
subconscious consent?

there are few things as intense
as feeling the throbbing arteries

Upon your neck

How often do we forget
that sometimes it is
reason enough to run
simply because we can run
and the fear of falling
skin scratching bones breaking
is forgotten as
the wind
and the blood


There are few moments as profound
as those immersed in
bittersweet nostalgia.
Of moments stolen in
secluded tables in empty restaurants
when eyes behold
bright emeralds and crimson
where dull browns and greys
were thought to dwell
and when one discovers
signs of the divine
among the interactions
of dust motes and sunlight
arched eyebrows and hidden smiles
curry-covered fingers

as we let each day of our lives
pass us by, we realize

that nothing is sweeter than the past

and that all the world is mirrored within.

That few sights are as beautiful
as those taken for granted
in crowded bazaars
slathered in sugary syrup
and dunked in urgent teas

Few sounds are as haunting
as your mother chanting
half mumbling rhythmic prayers
at the crack of dawn right when
you’re half dizzydrowsydrifting
between her and the Muezzin

and there is no scent
like the scent of newly damp earth
in the first monsoon rain.

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Filed under Issue 3, Poetry

2 responses to “Lucidity in the Haze

  1. nimra

    mashAllah, a masterpiece 🙂

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