Upper Stratum - I
(Resurrection)

Half-anaesthetized,
as if just released from jail,
I dwell in the upper stratum
of space, air and food,
you assigned to me.
My hope has shrunk
to one source:
your fresh, lukewarm,
waxen crunchy fingers -
our salvation
the medium and the symbol
in this day
of showering hail
and pouring lava.
Your eyes
render me fireproof
and you lead me
to a meadow
to anticipate
our resurrection.

Anwar Al-Ghassani
Thursday, Jan. 29, 2004