I blithely strolled down narrow alleys
Enveloped by scents of Arab sweets
Through the ruins of Jupiter’s temple
Into the endemic liveliness of the souk.
Enraptured by excited merchants
The colours of their treasures, the arts,
The fruits, the vegetables, the crowd,
I indulged in caressing ancient walls.
My emotions directed by gentleness
Followed the course of the quiet river
As familiar arches and columns compelled me
To spare a thought for my homelands.
Pensiveness quelled by Zoroastrian cypresses
The Faravahar on my neck recognised adornments
Tiles, domes and minarets, madrasas and mausolea
Churches, mosques and synagogues amidst bars.
Five thousand years of startling human stories
I entered a shisha house to hear one.
An old man whispered an invitation to follow
Him to an old Damascene house,
Offered me tea in the courtyard I sat
Next to the fountain shaded by lemon trees.
Vapours of lentil soup from the kitchen
Ladies’ laughter the man murmured
A betokening confession,
War was approaching and all had to flee.
Addled on my way out I stumbled on the milkman
Who fell from his bicycle I apologised infected
By the unsettling foreboding dreaming an escape,
Three days later I was gone.
Three months later, Spring brought rains of shells.
[Featured photo: Damascus jasmine by Adooomeh Photography]