Clouds on a Canvas

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I captured this beautiful image early morning, standing behind the glass window of my hotel room at the Eolo (a Relais & Chateaux hotel) in Patagonia, Argentina. The poem I wrote below is inspired by the marvelous clouds I witnessed in Patagonia and by an Artist friend.

I love clouds.

I like their whiteness
Their vastness
Their freedom in the sky.

I like how they appear
and disappear
How fragile they seem
How big they dream.

I like how they can hide the sun
How they are above everyone
I like how they dance to nature’s song
How they sway all night long.

I like how they transform themselves
into a labyrinth of shapes and forms
into a myriad of shades and hues
How they are the sky’s white canvas
and the earth’s eternal muse.

I like how they float through the air
I like how they swim everywhere
I like how freely they roam the sky
and how very high they fly.

I love clouds.

I like their bubbliness and puffiness
Their unthreatening candidness
Their charming abstractedness.

I like how they remind me
Of purity
Of white cotton candy
Of a baby’s chubby cheeks
Of snowy mountain peaks
Of children running free
Of my artist friend Nelle
She paints clouds you see
As brilliantly as can be.

They make me happy.

My Life is Real

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A Taste of Gaucho Culture, Estancia Los Patos, Argentina

My life is real.
Its essence I feel
I travel a great deal.

I seek and heal
Experience and reveal
All that is surreal
I have nothing to conceal
Not my curiosity
Nor my zeal
No apology
For my independence
For my candidness
Only to God, I kneel.

In every foreign place
I find novelty and grace
In every little street
Despite my tired feet
I walk and greet
Locals I meet.

During such encounters
And racing hours
I receive
An introduction
To tradition
I merge with culture
Demand disclosure
And embrace exposure.

In far away lands
Under moonlit skies
Despite my sleepy eyes
I see shimmering stars
Written memoirs
Of beautiful spirits.

When mornings come
And birds hum
I walk in nature
No longer a stranger
Acre after acre
Of exquisiteness
I thank my Creator
I bow to my Maker
For this magnificence.

My life is real
Its essence I feel
I travel a great deal.

What vileness he thinks
And ill she speaks
Of my travels and bills
Of my passions and thrills
Brush the top of these hideous hills
In whose valleys everyone sleeps
Where no one wills
And stillness kills.

I’m onto something
In my wandering and writing
Despite the foulness
That sometimes reeks
And the belittling
That oftentimes squeaks
Envy that peaks
And judgment that leaks
Your vulgar style
So bile and juvenile.

I’m onto something
Despite lonely elves
Stuck at the bottom of wells
Living in hell
Hiding it well
And foolish freaks
With spiteful tongues
And ugly beaks.

Despite this ordeal
I reiterate
My life is real.

By Razan Abdul Majeed

Glorious Glacier

Trekking the Perito Moreno Glacier, Patagonia, Argentina, 2014       

Experiencing the majesty of the Perito Moreno Glacier in Patagonia and trekking this icy blue-white formation – has humbled me in so many ways. Not only because its wondrousness is yet another example of God’s greatness, it is also a reconfirmation of our limitations as human beings. No matter how much we achieve or how high we climb or how we far we go or do things we think nobody else has done – Condillac was right in claiming that we can never really escape our own sensations. We cannot disembark from ourselves. We are we, here or there.