Master of the Moment

By: Salwa Saab
AT last, you are with me without having the fear as the master of the moment, without exhorting extra thoughts of worries. Those days have gone and will not return? I am no more afraid of the probability of our reunion? Now we can stop being afraid of the eyes that observed our movements and our moments together. I cannot believe this. Nonetheless, I can still feel the tranquility as it fills my heart and thoughts while you lie before my eyes unusually calm. O ye constant traveler- traveling towards an endless horizon, are you really tired from the long journey?
Your silence is generally eloquent and articulate and for the first time it is telling your buried secrets openly. Your silence is reading several stories about that legendary heroism. I was craving to hearing its details from you. But that cannot happen, not even in dreams.
My hands are pouring water to stream all over your body like some shining crystal lines, entering the pores that are thirsty for life – and one knows that from water every living thing is made. I wonder, will it blow life in you once more my beloved one?
My hands are touching an old and deep wound in your body. The day when you were injured, they thought that they nailed you. However, one week after you recovered from the coma, you returned to life. And one month later, you returned to the arena of resistance with further determination and perseverance to fight.
Let me touch your face so that I can draw with my hand an everlasting memory. I will draw its lines like the pure infant, like the solemnity of a serious man who knows no fear. Oh, I always craved for some moments that would bring us together, counting each minute a thousand times! I wonder about this tranquility that wraps me despite these incredible conditions that I am experiencing in your presence! Forgive me for my boldness and courage. I will not hide any secret from you, O master of my entire life. Another issue pushed me to do so, which I mentioned earlier. My eagerness to meet with you alone, without any observation, drove me to clarify this issue.
Do you remember our first days together? You were young, below the age of twenty. You asked my hand at that time. My parents and your parents disagreed at that time for many reasons. One of the reasons was that you were a fighter who was affiliated with a party, carrying your blood with your own hands – as my parents said – that you were too young for marriage – as your parents said – and yet despite these protests we got married.
Twenty years passed like "the blink of an eye." There were good times and equally there were bad times. Yes, I was satisfied, sipping the bitterness of patience and waiting, a cup after another. Now I confess before you that fear visited me several times during the nights of your recurrent absence. It was the fear of something expected, which had to arrive in the end.
Now I am finishing the first term: washing you with pure water, perfumed water and camphor.
Now I come to the second and final term: Dressing you with the last shroud. Do you remember the day when you gave it to me to treasure it with my wedding dress! On that day I cried and you embraced me with compassion and said: I want you to know from the beginning that life with me is not going to be easy. Death is stalking me on each corner.
This kind of cover time after time passes by the graves of the saints and good people to receive their blessings! Now, your remains will add to these blessings.
Are you ready for your final destiny? I will no longer worry while waiting for your return. It is now your turn to wait for me. Reserve a place for me next to you in the afterlife. And should your rank be a high one that I do not deserve, reserve for those who deserve it among the martyrs and the good people.