Omar Binno

Who sent the unseen enemy
To shadow my footsteps?
To shape pillars, towers, and battlements
Into fortresses of hope.

Who is the unseen enemy
That runs before me?
Wielding black hammers and maces
To smite and pummel hope into dust.
Even as the fortress crumbles
Before the onslaught of missiles cast by Battle engines.

Who is the unseen enemy
That walks the paths of my dreams?
Plants the fruits of those dreams
And bares them upon a silver platter
Resting on an invisible hand.
Then, the hand crushes the fruits
Even as I reach out to taste their sweet nectar.

Who is the unseen enemy
Who seizes those towered fortresses
And with the strength of atlas
Hurls them into the abyss.
Where the great furnace devours them
And molds puddles of emptiness out of them.

Gathering those puddles into buckets of black iron
The unseen one hurls them into the air
And from the sky Heaven weeps
Those puddles of emptiness upon me.
Thus is the harvest of all my aspirations.

By Omar Binno

“For such is the way of it; to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is on the running stream.” – J. R. R. Tolkien – The Lord Of The Rings

Summer waned and fall drifted in
Beneath a crisp blue sky,
The days grew short, the world yawned wearily
And the wind began to sigh.
The branches of trees bent laden
With leaves of autumn gold,
The long star-filled nights
Were wondrous to behold.

On a day in mid Autumn
The sky burned aflame,
Yet shadows veiled the path
From whence my love came.
Her auburn hair
Wownd like strands of mahogany
As it curled its way
Down shoulders of ivory.
The sea lapped in her eyes,
A deep blue-green,
A child’s simplicity abounded in my love,
That no mortal eye has seen.

In a dream I saw,
A messenger in white
His snowy hair and beard flowed long
His garments shone with light.
Knowledge I read in the wells of his eyes
And they twinkled blue as sapphire.
A silver trumpet rang in the night
And the vision kindled fire.
I, the Stray Wanderer, beheld my destiny
For my love had come, at last.
My cup overflowed with gladness
And my burdens fled into the past.
As the messenger departed
I thanked Fate seven times seven,
And the stars glittered like diamonds
On the high beaches of Heaven.
For here at the end of Autumn
Summer laughed anew in me,
On an angel’s wings my love had come
And she was mine to be.

The days turned gray, the world a soft white,
Snow blanketed the air.
The wind blew cold, the grass fell withered,
And the branches of trees grew bare.

Then a long sunless day
Began to unfold
And doom came upon me
Unforetold.
The messenger returned
His voice boomed like thunder
“Alas, Alas!
I must rend your paths asunder.”
I saw with consternation
His robe ashen black
“What you have received
Fate will now take back.”
Then my love spoke words
Of farewell without warning
She would thus leave
And I would wear mourning.
The heart of my love was not given to me
Of that, at last, I felt sure
Beyond the gates of Eternity
This parting would endure.

Winter dragged to its bitter end
As countless times before
And of its cold and desolate days I sang,
For summer sang in me no more.
As a ship setting sail from havens lost forever
This tale has journeyed to its end,
Other tales and other loves I may find
But this love will come not again.

By Omar Binno

In a house on a hill lived Old Man Jollers
And he was a merry fellow
Apple-red his jacket was
His tall boots a bright yellow.
His white beard was short
His mirth-filled eyes twinkled blue
And every morn upon his horn
he called “Haloo haloo.”

Then children of all sorts
would come to watch him dance
Flipetty-flop, a skip and a hop
Round in small circles he pranced.
In a piping voice a child would ask
“What song Pappy Jollers have you got for us today?”
And Jollers replied
“Be content little one, I have many a song to sing this day.”

Then a hush would fall over the children
To hear Jollers’ singing
The sun, the moon, the stars they saw
The sound of rain fell ringing.
Of the meadows and the valleys he sang,
And forests with towering trees,
Of the mountains in the distance he spoke to them,
And of the breath of the sighing seas.
Then the children’s minds would wander
Through realms of enchantment and sunlight.
And they pondered what lay in the far blue yonder,
Beneath morning and clear twilight.

By Omar Binno

“End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.” – Gandalf to Pippin “See it? Gandalf, see what?” – Pippin to Gandalf “White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.” – Gandalf to Pippin – The Lord Of The Rings
Two boats sailing down the river called Life
One white as pearl
With the six of us and Dad stearing it.
The other, golden as the sun
With you guiding.

The years pass like islands in the river
Where you plant trees like towers baring fruits of laughter.
Waves hammer the boats
Threatening to tare them apart and drown us
But you break the waves with your jokes and pranks.
Then, from the east, the storm comes
The sky, black as ashe,
Unleashes its fury,
And rain covers our boat like a blanket.
Then the wind
Like the breath of God
Pushes your boat away from us
Into the west, where the sun sets
And Heaven’s gates stand forever open
You are going and leaving us.
You wave your hand in final farewell.
Now your boat sails the high seas of Heaven
Where it shines and glimmers
Like a newly arisen star
Fashioned by the hand of God.

By Omar Binno

Harsh days and sleepless nights
I spent in my music room,
I wondered why my love had gone
And why I must bare this doom.
Flutes, Violins, harps, and trumpets
Littered the brown-carpeted floor
But of winter’s cold and forsaken days I sang,
For summer caroled in me no more.

On a warm spring day at the end of May
I walked far a field
To rend the world for the old man
And seek the answers he might yield.

I came to a forest whose trees stood high
Silver bark, emerald leaves, and gnarled arms touched the sky.
I arrived at a meadow beneath lingering April showers
Where the long grass was bathed in golden May flowers.
Then I saw the old man
And I looked at him in dismay,
His fire was quenched, his blue eyes foggy
And his robe a misty gray.
Like a vast roaring tide
My anger swelled within,
I asked him “why” and then he sighed,
“The answer is hidden.”

Then I gazed in disbelief
For the old man was gone,
And I shrouded myself in the cloak of night
Awaiting a lightless dawn

By Omar Binno

There looms before me
A dense cloud of shadow,
Black and impenetrable,
Black curtains
Spread across a vast stage.
Though I strain with all my might
My unaided eyes can not pierce
That muddy mirk.

Then,
Sweet words and melodies
Of a forgotten song
Spear,
To rend the vale aside,
As rays of incandescent light
In a dark chasm.
For an unfathomable second
I behold a fair face,
Like the moon
On a clear winter evening.
I hear a voice
Like that of an innocent child
There is laughter,
Like the sighing of waves
Lapping against the immortal shores of Paradise.
Over all, hope
A golden phoenix
Soaring freely
Through blazing blue fields
Of the infinite sky.
The memory is a knife
Covered with sweet honey
Stabbing at a bleeding heart.
The phoenix is slain
With a black feathered arrow
Dipped in venom.
Then the song slowly recedes
Even as the fiery sun
Sets in the west.
The cloud returns
To hide what I have seen.
Just as black curtains are drawn
Across an empty stage
Upon which
A tragic story has taken place.
Whose bitter end is now lost
In the deep shades of evening
Beneath a remote yet starlit sky.

By Omar Binno

There stands upon a high hill, a mighty oak.
Its trunk rough and scarred,
yet standing as an impregnable tower.
And the branches spread their wings of freedom,
at the sight of the blue sky.
On its countless leaves are written
winters and summers that will come,
and yet are gone forever.
Beneath all,
are the roots of the tree,
which cling too tightly to the tear-drenched soil.
The tree stands tall on the hill,
as a keeper of days gone by,
and days yet to be.

By Omar Binno