Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
Since time immemorial,
the heart has been digging a well inside me
to listen to its own water…
No one knows
that peace begins with a single drop
negotiating with its stone
before leaping toward the light.
I walk,
and nameless birds hang from my shoulders,
gathering what falls from my thoughts
as if collecting seeds
waiting for the season of departure.
I watch the trees
hide faces in their bark—
one resembles my childhood,
another the world’s trembling fear,
and a third
I do not know,
yet it reassures me
as it watches
from the shimmer of night between the branches.
I move forward,
and the things around me shift
as if the universe
were readjusting its geometry
to the rhythm of my heart…
Stones listen,
the air takes notes,
grass spells out
my footsteps
like a child learning the alphabet
for the very first time.
I love…
not a single face,
but the space
between faces,
the luminous space
shaped by the quiet passage
of the heart.
I love how water
negotiates with the earth,
and how the earth
learns from the water’s flow
the tenderness of surrender.
I also love
that everything in the universe
is suspended by a delicate thread
held by the Creator
from an unseen place—
and yet
this thread breaks
only when we close our hearts.
I stop,
and memory escapes through a window,
from which a woman appears
whom I do not know,
yet I recognize
the way she calms the wind
as it brushes past her…
and I understand that love
is not a person,
but a ritual
that souls learn
only when they set themselves aside.
I grow silent,
and meaning flows
from unknown places,
as if language
had borrowed the voice of clouds
and left me
fallen in wonder.
And when night descends,
I feel my heart
closing its doors
and opening its single window
toward a sky
that breathes within me…
a sky
where every star
knew my name
before I was born,
and knew that I came
to plant
a small garden
where the world may rest
for just a moment.
Thus,
I become a sentence
in a book vaster than Earth,
and my life
becomes a code written
on a faint light,
read by angels
searching for a new reason
why humans
should not grow weary
of carrying this planet.
And here, within every heartbeat,
the heart continues to whisper…
Nourina is not the end of the poem—
but the beginning of everything.
