Maya Youssef spoke to me about war,
And I have never before,
Felt the gravity of tragedy in music,
Until hers now in this moment of notes.
She hopes that bombs turn into roses,
Qanun whispered maqam to my western ears.
Floating flakes of red and white rose buds,
Poignantly soft,
With sequestered air to breathe between.
High and low thrumming cords of danger,
Sirocco dust blushing the blooms,
In fickle direction.
Then building in fear and fragrance,
Petal light fingers on strings,
Of anger and loss again,
Before soothing rose water,
Sweetens wars metallic scythe edge,
With bird song and nectar in the silences.
# # #
Lisa Lopresti is a Bristol poet who when she is not working or scribbling down poetry to languish in kitchen drawers, forages for ingredients to turn into home-made wine or her favourite Elder-flower Champagne. Lisa has just recently dipped her toes in the frigid waters and shared her poems with those other than family. She been really lucky in having several of her poems published, online and in anthologies. Most recently two of her poems were shortlisted for the online, last year and this years’ Herheart’ Poetry Competitions and has had several poems published, one in ‘Voices Along the Road’ Charity Anthology to raise money for child refugees. (Available on Amazon). Read more here: https://lisa-lopresti-poetry.webnode.com/
Photo: Ravi Pinisetti
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