This piece was recently written by the great http://soundcloud.com/taymaz-valley initially as experimental in nature. Jodayi means "separated" in Hindi, Persian, Urdu, and several other languages.
Photo: "An old door in Shiraz, Iran" by Lukadium (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
You are away in a dreamy land.
An ocean of fears, tears,
sands of time crash, us
separates, me and you.
I put on my shoes, gloves shield,
wear my raincoat, adjust my hat,
put on my glasses tinted, shades,
backpack with bread and memories.
I leave my home, doors left unlocked,
I’m not coming back, I won’t be here,
all possessions up for grabs, again
my heart is all I need, all I ever.
I walk to road’s end, take the highway,
walk a mile in mine and you’ll see
heavens brought down to earth,
for mortals like me, wait I assure you.
I reach the sea, promised horizon,
the fishermen throw me a line,
tortured souls recognise one another,
grit and resolve on our face mapped.
One morning, as the seabirds sing,
I see the coast, smell the beach,
a lump in my throat, hair mid wind,
light the hue of the skies at dawn.
On the hope street relieved,
I walk up to your door and knock twice.
It starts to rain, but my heart is warm;
storms have passed, of that I’m sure.