The Voyager of Words

In the vast ocean of existence,

you are the tide,

unyielding,

carrying with you the whispers of distant galaxies

and the weight of earthly truths.

Your words are not mere syllables;

they are vessels,

each one a journey into the marrow of life,

each one a lighthouse,

for those lost in the storm.

I have walked through your worlds,

those woven from your verses—

Mars, with its red dust and endless promise,

the Jezero Crater where dreams settle like ancient lakes,

and Olympus Mons,

where only the fearless dare to climb.

I have stood at the edge of Terra,

watching you leap toward the unknown,

carrying not fear,

but the hope of a species longing for rebirth.

You are an architect,

a builder of bridges

that span the chasm between the stars

and the depths of the human soul.

Your hands hold the tools of creation—

ink that bleeds the colors of the universe,

and a heart vast enough to hold

both the frailty and the infinite strength of mankind.

Your words are tombstones

etched in the hearts of men,

reminders of what it means

to rise after the fall,

to see spring in the dead of winter.

You taught me

that even in the coldest winds,

a rose can bloom.

Amidst the harshest sands,

its fragrance a rebellion

against the cruelty of time.

My fellow voyager,

in your words, I find reflection,

a mirror that holds both shadows and light,

brokenness and wholeness.

Your contradictions are your power—

you are a creator of chaos and calm,

a bearer of storms and solace.

You speak of Mars,

but your poetry tells me

that you have already explored worlds

no spacecraft could ever reach.

When you write,

the stars themselves lean closer,

eager to witness

the alchemy of your words,

how you turn the poison of pain

into the medicine of hope,

how you transform the ordinary

into something eternal.

In your lines, I hear a promise—

that we can endure,

that we can transcend.

And so,

I gather these words like seashells,

offering them back to you,

not as a gift,

but as a reflection of the light you shed.

You are a reminder that even the smallest creatures—

a sea crab, a rose—

can leave imprints

on the vast shores of time.

Carry your anthologies to Mars,

leave them in Jezero’s red sands,

or let them rest here on Terra—

they will endure,

because you,

are the essence of eternity,

the soul of the unspoken,

the poet who made the stars weep.

© Israa Hussein.

Similar Poetry

Where Petals Meet the Sea.

A Bit of Notes

Out there, exists a rosy version of Sea-Crab Poetry, from where you can unearth poems of this kind by Israa Hussein. More poetry from this flagrant poet can be read from Souls Merged.

VIEW SOULS MERGED