Your myth


Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

The sky is the realm of one


are the realm of three

One —

faith and ritual, rock and sea

Two —

desire and sacrifice

poetry and tea

Three —

Words gliding against branches

chasing rolls

of pleated chiffon.


Moon-kissed cheeks


the scent of morning.


When would you like to make love to me?

In winter

I am sprinkled over blue spruce.

In spring

I am the scent of a snowdrop tree.

I am your myth

a harvest hymn

the third

of three.



Omar Imady

Poet / Novelist / Historian / Syrian / American / Exile / Javaphile / Gastronome / Aerophobe.